In Dreams, What Nightmares May Come
by Kus Kus
Summary: [ Continuation ] What lies beneath the title of the Sorceress' Knight...?
1. Return

** one **

"Only a few more steps, ya know?"

"EASY."

The two longtime companions did not know what was more damning at the moment; that they were actually walking towards the gleaming, whirling structure that had been their former home with "Wanted" practically tattooed on their foreheads, or that the third person being dragged lifelessly between them responded not at all to the familiar sites.

"Fuuj," the dark one said, his voice quavering.

The one-eyed one didn't bother to respond immediately, struggling as she was under the heavy weight of the one man she'd ever give her life and her heart to. Her throat was tight as well. Unshed tears from weeks of worry and misery threatened to spill over her pale cheeks. She sucked in the moist, grassy air.

"SURVIVE!" she finally barked, putting her emotions away for a time when they could be properly expressed.

* * *

"They're here. _He's_ here!" 

Balamb Garden SeeD Commander Squall Leonhart didn't look up from the reports he'd been mulling over. Such and such person wanted bodyguards, such and such person wanted an army to stave off some company strike, such and such person demanded a refund since _his_ SeeD had died on the mission and thus had failed to retrieve... some... family bauble. Bad enough that a fully trained and graduated SeeD had given his life for some rich man's trinket; worse to find insult added to injury. The amount the man had paid up front for his petty little quest would dip heavily into his Garden's much needed funds. He put a note on _that_ particular one to remind himself to send a scathing reply.

His visitor cleared her throat.

"What?" he snapped, considering which team to send for the strike. Little thought was given to the intruder, for there were few people who would enter _this_ Garden Commander's office without announcing themselves.

"They're _here_. He had the nerve to show up on our front doorstep!" stated a second, more authoritative voice.

"Who, Xu?" Squall sighed, putting the stack of papers aside. Xu's presence spoke of a situation more likely to warrant his attention and he finally deigned to look up. An unusually angered Selphie Tilmitt stood behind the officer.

"Seifer!" they both cried.

* * *

Though a death sentence waited for the former Sorceress' Knight in Trabia Garden, Balamb Garden, Galbadia Garden, Galbadia itself, and Esthar, it was well known that Seifer Almasy and his two loyal compatriots had settled down near Winhill in a home alongside the ocean. The proud former SeeD Cadet would not hide from anyone or anything, least of all a vague legal proclamation that dumped practically everything that had happened onto his shoulders. The Garden Commanders, with more than a little prodding from Balamb's Head Committee, knew that it was good in the public eye that they were condemning the main accomplice to the infamous Sorceress, but that it was ridiculous to execute a man for crimes that were not necessarily his. Thus, the apprehension of Seifer Almasy was at the bottom of their lists.

After the first several groups of soldiers that had been dispatched to retrieve the criminals had been returned maimed, scarred, roasted, or otherwise settled in long, wooden boxes, the two other governments simply decided that _now _was not the right time to be apprehending the wanted trio. Though the newly elected President Kaplain of Galbadia acted properly disappointed in the decision, it was widely and scandously known that President Loire had opposed the Knight's execution despite the public's opinion.

However, the sickly, beaten trio at the front gates of Balamb Garden hardly seemed as if they'd warranted such violent attention.

One SeeD, in a brave attempt to verbally disperse the unwelcome visitors, already lay on the floor. A footprint, exactly matching the size and colored the same as the mud caking the one-eyed terror's left boot, had been imprinted on his chest. He groaned and swiftly dragged himself out of the way as the same offending heel smacked into the concrete only inches away from his retreating leg.

"MOVE," she snarled at the growing crescent of curious onlookers and furious looking mercenaries.

The throng murmured amongst themselves.

"C'mon, ya know?" her dark companion pleaded. "He's sick, ya know? And we're tired..."

"Gangway, lemme through!" A distinct, spiky-haired figure fought his way through the mob. A slender spectacled woman followed behind, calling for the students to disperse. Even those that could not hear her words noted the gold on her labels and the comfortable way she waved around the bullwhip coiled about her right hand. SeeD Instructor Quistis Trepe was not one to cross.

By the time her rambunctious, tattooed companion had reached the trio, most of the group had found themselves with something to do elsewhere, though few spared the chance to throw a warning glare behind them at the infamous trio. More than enough stayed within listening or firing distance, however, should the situation turn ugly. A SeeD was always prepared: Combat Situations 101.

The path cleared, they begun to move forward, determined to make it through the gate. The sight of Zell Dincht had never wavered them in the past, and they weren't about to let his presence stop them now. "Oh, hey hey HEY!" he cried, obviously miffed at being ignored. He put his body and his flailing arms in their path. "Where do you think YOU'RE going?"

"MOVE!" the young woman roared and staggered once again under her companion's flagging weight.

Zell blinked, finally taking in the ex-Disciplinary Committees' haggard appearance. "What the hell happened to you guys?"

Fuujin, her silvery-white hair disheveled, scratches and cuts decorating her arms and legs, her clothing torn and her shoes and legs caked in dirt, hardly cut the threatening creature she'd been when she'd patrolled the halls looking for rule-breakers. Though her one eye still cast a fierce glare, the hardships of the past year and more had definitely taken their toll. Any moment it looked as if the poor young woman would collapse onto the floor and break into tears.

In contrast, Raijin somehow maintained an air of carefree optimism, despite his own haggard appearance. He'd maintained his bulk, towering most others in muscle and in height, and the smile he wore was tired yet true. Sad he was, but it seemed as if Raijin believed that their troubles were about to be over.

The saddest of them all was their hanging companion, unconscious, awkwardly strung between two different shoulder heights and responding not at all to the sights and sounds before him. Seifer Almasy, former SeeD Cadet, former Commander of the Galbadian armies, former Knight to the infamous and illustrious Sorceress, looked wasted, broken, and miserable. He looked thinner, his clothes and his gunblade holster hanging loosely on a body that had once been taut and refined. His hair, always meticulously groomed, was uneven, long, and flaked with dandruff and dirt. Under his closed eyes lay dark patches, speaking of unslept nights and worrisome days, while the rest of his skin was unnaturally pale. Around his abdomen blood-soaked bandages spoke of a recent battle, which if won had been a costly victory. His head lolled forward as Zell watched.

"TIME, BAD. INFIRMIRY, NOW!" Fuujin lurched forward.

"It's a little difficult to let you in now, Fuujin," Quistis said, standing unobtrusively to one side. "There could be a lot of legal and public repercussions for our Garden, especially since you made such a blatant arrival."

"Aw, c'mon teach'!" pleaded Raijin. "We gotta get Seifer healed, ya know? It's not really fair for you ta deny him some regular medical attention, ya know?"

"Why didn't you two just heal him yourself?"

"GUARDIAN FORCE, MONEY NEGATIVE."

"Yeah," snapped Zell, brandishing a fist, "all deserved for wanted criminals! You guys should go and just bug some other suckers into letting you in!"

"RAGE!"

The tenuous hold on Fuujin's self-control had begged long for a release, and found it in the face of the wild boy's jabs. She lunged forward, forgetting the heavy burden of her wounded companion, one swift fist smacking soundly into the tribal pattern on Zell's left cheek. The two went down, Fuujin pulling and punching at anything that her limber hands could find while Zell, taken entirely by surprise, concentrated on merely defending himself.

Left alone to heft Seifer's weight, Raijin flagged ("Whoops!"). His tired knees buckled under the unexpected weight, but he found relief a moment later as Quistis aided him in lowering the boy's limp body onto the ground. As Fuujin straddled Zell's chest, her clawed hands pinned up in the air by Zell's tight fists, the young instructor peered under Seifer's eyelids, discovered bloodshot orbs, then clucked her tongue at the haphazard bandages.

"You can heal him, ya know," Raijin said, as if disappointed she hadn't thought of it earlier. Quistis shook her head.

"Guardian Forces are being used to the bare minimum nowadays," she explained, "to curb the memory loss involved. We should get Doctor Kadowaki out here." She slid an arm under Seifer's neck and grasped ahold of his wrist motioning with her head for Raijin to help. They were stopped short by a soft, angry voice.

"What the _hell_ is going on?"

Fuujin froze mid-punch, Zell's head locked firmly in the crook of her arm. She satisfied herself with one more slug to the top of his head before unceremoniously dropping him to the floor. "IN, NOW," she demanded of Balamb's Commander, kicking a cursing Zell in the side.

"OW, GODDAMNIT!"

"We can't do that," Squall replied. "We can't harbor wanted criminals."

"That's not fair, ya know!" cried Raijin, his voice quivering. A few tears slipped their way down his dark cheeks. He walked up to Squall, gesticulating wildly. "We've been all over, ya know! No one takes us in, no one wants ta help us, and we almost died like... 4 times! It's not like we were ourselves when everything happened, ya know! Ya gotta help us, ya gotta help Seif--"

"YOU!"

Interrupted, Raijin nearly fell over in shock. He turned, along with everyone else present, to see Seifer struggling to his feet. Quistis laid an imploring hand on his arm, afraid that the effort would injure him further, and was roughly shoved aside.

"_You_," the ex-Knight hissed, clumsily pulling his gunblade from its holster on his back, "it's all your fault."

"What?" Squall's eyebrows lifted in surprise.

Raijin backed away, grateful to see his friend conscious but uncertain as whether to help or hinder him. Fuujin stared, wide-eyed. Zell made a few dizzying steps forward to block Seifer's path but was stopped short by a small hand on his shoulder. "He's not gonna to hurt him," Selphie whispered, pity in her voice, "he can, like, barely stand!"

Hyperion shook, and its owner continued to gasp for air. He advanced several limping steps, putting himself just barely in striking range, and swung wildly at his rival. Squall easily dodged and the sharp blade scraped into the ground, sparking as it went. Several of Seifer's bandages ripped with the effort, and blood pattered the stone floor. "I'll kill you!"

"You can't even hold your weapon," he replied, easily dodging another one of Seifer's weak swings. "Put it down before you hurt yourself."

After another step Seifer groaned and fell to his knees, one hand on his stomach and the other using his beloved gunblade as a crutch. A thin red line ran from the corner of his mouth down his chin. He looked up, though it looked as if the simple movement cost him much. Squall found himself taking a step backwards, propelled by the force of the hatred and fury that burned in those green depths. He grasped over his shoulder for the gunblade that wasn't there.

"You took her from me," rasped the blonde boy, still struggling to stand.

"Who the hell are you talking about?"

"Her… the _Sorceress_." His final word dissolved into a blood-choked gurgle.

"The Sorceress," repeated a ever-more puzzled Squall. He thought back to the last time they'd really seen each other face to face; Seifer only a little less torn and bloody, but still full of pride and life, standing in triumph at the end of the chamber where they'd been forced to face off against the strengthened powers of a revived Sorceress Adel. They'd vanquished the woman, as well as her future successor Ultimecia, leaving the remnants of their legacy in an untried young girl. Rinoa Heartilly, latest to hold those infamous powers, chose himself for her own Knight leaving the former one to wallow as a scapegoat for the terrors that had passed. Were these events what had broken the man before him?

"Seifer!"

The quick pattering of heeled boots told him that, once again, Rinoa had disobeyed a Garden-wide order (this time to remain in the dormitories until the situation had been resolved) to feed her own curiosity. Yet, alongside the usual pleasurable sensations he felt when he heard her voice, an unfamiliar twinge played on his heart. It hurt like the pinprick of a needle, sharp and small, bringing with it a poison that infused his veins with a rush of anger. After a few moments he recognized it for what it was.

_Jealousy._

Half by instinct, half propelled by this newfound turmoil, the Commander lifted an arm to prevent Rinoa from rushing to Seifer's side. He found his voice alarmingly cold. "Don't. He's dangerous."

"Look at him!" she demanded. She put her hands on her hips and looked around. "What are you guys all standing around for? Someone get him to the Infirmary!"

"AFFIRMATIVE!"

Again Fuujin stepped forward (though agreeing with the peppy bitch made her feel nauseous), determined to kill if any of these damnable SeeD brats tried to stop her this time. She'd barely laid a hand on Seifer's shoulder when he propelled himself forward, leaving Hyperion to clang onto the floor, and released an anguished cry.

"Rinoa!"

Shocked by the sudden movement, the young girl stood still, her mouth agape. Squall, honed by a soldier's upbringing, acted immediately by swinging a tight fist towards one of Seifer's sunken eyes. The effort he found himself putting into a blow aimed at a weak, unarmed man astounded him. Why should he be concerned with a man that his love had long since left behind? Why should he be concerned _at all _when he and Rinoa had long made it clear that their relationship had transcended the distrust that couples like wary Selphie and flirtatious Irvine faced? Since when had he ever thought Seifer wasa _rival_, when it had been always Seifer who'd stuck that label to their continuous conflict?

Though the punch connected, and by the skin that split it had hit hard, Seifer barely reeled. Instead, his own fist came at a blinding speed at Squall's chest bringing alive, for a fraction of a second, the frightening skill that had little more than a year prior bought the Sorceress' favor. The SeeD Commander let out a grunt in response and stumbled backwards before falling to the floor. Rinoa let out a strangled gasp, for without Squall in her path Seifer was free to wrap his dirtied arms around her waist. She looked down into his face, fear and concern playing across her pretty features, to meet an expression of nearly god-like adoration.

"Take me back," he pleaded, a horrible sort of desperation lacing the hoarse, twisted sound that managed to fight its way out of his throat. "Take me back, your first Knight, your _true_ Knight. Let me be once again by your side, Knight and Sorceress, as we were." His weight drove her to her knees, and he followed, his head coming to rest almost reverently onto her lap. Blood from his opened wound pooled onto the floor below. Behind them, Fuujin had begun to sob, violently, and Quistis gathered her into the dark folds of her uniform.

"Please," he whispered, before once again slipping out of consciousness.

Rinoa looked up at Squall, set to his feet by an astounded Zell. Something broke inside of him at the sight of her tears of pity; something that irrationally asked why the girl even felt the most disparaging bit of care for the crumpled figure on the ground. He turned away, waving a furious command at the gathered few.

"Get a stretcher, take him to Doctor Kadowaki, on my authority. Get them - " he pointed harshly at the former Disciplinary crew, one still wrapped in the instructor's tight embrace, " - somewhere to clean up. Bring them all to the Infirmary afterwards."

"But Squall - " Zell began, cutting himself short at the rancorous glare Squall gave him over his shoulder.

"Forget the fucking edict. Just do. What. I. _Said_."


	2. Broken

** two **

"I've sterilized the wound on his abdomen and purged the infections," Doctor Kadowaki explained, "a healing draught is taking care of the skin and organ rebuilding, and he's probably going to have another scar. The other things will just take time."

Quistis lifted an eyebrow. "What other hings?"

"Loss of muscle tone, virtually a complete absence of fatty tissues, a weakened cardio-vasculatory system, achlorhydria..."

"English!" Zell cried.

The doctor rolled her eyes. "He's been starving himself on top of getting into one nasty fight. I can't heal this with a simple spell or potion; the body just needs time to repair itself. Bedrest, food, and fluids are all he needs to recover. And," she looked meaningfully at Squall, "no stress, no fights. I've gone ahead and strapped him down as well. Don't give me any grief, Fuujin. It's so he doesn't try and get up and hurt himself even more.

"Now," she turned her attention towards the clean and bandaged dark and light duo, "what happened to him? The more I know the more I can do about the damage he's already done to himself."

They exchanged looks. "We're not sure, ya know."

Kadowaki peered at them suspiciously.

"We're not hiding anything, ya know! It's just..."

"...We're really, really not sure why this happened," Fuujin finished. Unfamiliar with stringing together words in rather unnecessary sentences (a few well chosen ones, as well as a punishing physical accompaniment, were always enough to get her points across), she stumbled a bit to explain their life as of the last year...

* * *

Warm sunshine with a cool, breezy air; Seifer wouldn't have admitted it, but the weather was definitely one of the biggest reasons why (after a relaxing trip to Fisherman's Horizon) they'd decided eventually to settle south of Winhill alongside a mostly abandoned beach. After the "bugs" had been cleared away (mostly stubborn fastitocalons and nest-protecting thrustavaevis), they'd managed to build themselves a fairly good home. Four rooms were enough: a larger one for both Fuujin and Raijin and a smaller for Seifer, one for bathing, and the last with a fireplace and a comfortable couch just large enough for three. It was primarily functional, and with Raijin's flair with cheap furniture and decor it became cozy. Things were pretty good, considering... 

...Considering that they were poor, on the run, and banned from every major city here to Esthar.

It really didn't matter that they were out of money; they discovered that Winhill was more than willing to let them take care of their substantial creature difficulties as long as they were out of the village before the sun went down. They paid in goods rather than gil, which still worked out fine since, as Fuujin tended to point out, "SHOPPING, LIMITED." Winhill's stores were rather mediocre (other than the flower shop) and the relatively nearby town of Timber was willing to let Seifer, and only Seifer, in at irregular intervals, depending on their mood. His wonderfully well-timed interruption of the former Galbadian President's attempt at televised propaganda gave him passage for brief periods of time; that is, until someone remembered he'd _also_ been the one to take over that same President's army hardly a month later. The local police squad quickly became used to both escorting him to the edge of town, as well as patching up the bludgeoned citizens who'd attempted to make him pay for his sins against their fair city.

The three also became quite familiar with the Galabadian and the Estharian militaries and became a little disappointed when they stopped coming. Seifer complained about the lack of good action and his partners heartily agreed.

Still, oceanside living was spectacular (how could they have ever considered living the rest of their lives inside steel walls?), they had good company and they had good food.

The best of times...

...With the worst of times just around the corner.

A few weeks after the last Galbadian attempt had met their ex-Commander's "No Mercy" technique, almost four months since Ultimecia's defeat, Fuujin started realizing that the amount of food she was cleaning off of Seifer's plate was steadily increasing. At first she thought it was an insult to her cooking. After a swift kick to his shins, punctuated by a heartfelt "RAGE!" the food began to disappear again. All was well until Raijin commented that really, Seif, he _was_ hungry, but he didn't want his portions anymore, ya know.

The duo began watching over him as he ate, convinced he'd possibly picked up some sort of illness either from the air or from one of local yokels. Three nights later he slammed Hyperion through their meager dinner table, as well as some of the floor beneath, and roared that if he had to spend one more fucking meal with two shitheads watching over his fucking shoulder he'd kill them both. Still, they continued to spy on him out of the corner of their eyes. Supposedly their well-meant gesture broke a bit of his resolve; he ate a little better as the days progressed.

Then...

Often the three took their separate ways around Winhill; caterchipillars and bite bugs were hardly threats. At dusk they'd meet back at their hovel to enjoy a meal together. Fuujin used her earnings to purchase food, Raijin to purchase any sort of household product or repair items that they might need, and Seifer maintained their weaponry and medical stock. As usual, both Fuujin and Raijin arrived one after the other, one with a basket full of vegetables and a Balamb imported fish, the other with some much needed boards to repair several holes in their roof.

Seifer was late.

It wasn't a big worry. Not at first. He'd probably just gotten caught up with maybe one of the larger breeds, or maybe had gotten waylaid by one of the more aggressive locals. Raijin set out to rebuilding the roof and Fuujin began preparing the evening meal.

A few hours later, Raijin's shin and calves were sporting more than the usual set of bruises after having asked a few too many times what the time was, when they were going to eat, and whether or not they should go out and look for their missing friend. He eventually fell asleep, sprawled out onto the couch after having spent the remainder of the evening watching the fire die out and flinching every time his restless partner passed him by.

Fuujin sat and stared at the door once he'd fallen asleep, expecting that her Knight (which he still _was_, Sorceress or no Sorceress) would come bursting in, boasting of some elynole he'd found wandering the outskirts of the town that he'd vanquished all on his lonesome. She waited...

And waited...

The day broke over the horizon and she waited...

She was busy disposing of the uneaten food, stiff from sitting and numb from worry and the lack of sleep, when he finally came home. The door slammed open, waking Raijin and causing her to drop a plate. A figure whose eyes were red and whose clothes were askew leaned against the doorposts. He took a few stumbling steps in, then ran suddenly back out. The sound of someone violently expunging the contents of their stomach floated in from a short distance away.

He'd been drinking.

Seifer, who'd always prided himself in how well he'd maintained his body, who'd always scorned the foolish, mind and reflex-numbing effects of alcohol, had been _drinking_. Not just a glass of wine or a mug of ale, it seemed (and smelled) as if he'd been binging all night. When he finally made it back in he yanked off his gunblade holster and his jacket, tossed them carelessly to one side, and collapsed onto the floor in front of his bedroom without saying a word. The both of them picked him up and tucked him in, put away his weapon and folded his jacket, then agreed that whatever happened they couldn't leave him alone.

Something was very, very wrong. But what were they to do? He wasn't going to listen to them, and they sure as hell couldn't force him to do anything.

The two nursed him out of a massive hangover, and then questioned the motives behind his irregular one-man party. He'd answered with a weak laugh and a flurry of profanity. "Fuck, can't a guy go out for a good time once in a goddamn while?" He continued to deny any change in his well-being, and Raijin's tentative suggestion that he visit a doctor earned him a black eye.

Seifer didn't object to the extra company during their daily outings, but both his fuse and his appetite were decreasing at a slow, steady rate. The tension between them increased accordingly. Raijin was harried on both sides, for it was Fuujin and Seifer who'd set themselves up on opposing sides of this battlefield. When they did speak to each other it was either through him ("Raijin, tell Fuujin to get this shit out of my face." "Um, Fuuj..." "RAIJIN, SEIFER PUNISH." "Aw, c'mon, I'm not doing that ya know...") or in whipcord tones that lashed terribly from one end of the room to the other ("Leave me alone! I'm fine!" "LIAR! SEIFER, IDIOT!" "Just stay the fuck out of my face, bitch!").

One day, Raijin decided that he'd had enough. He was _supposed_ to watch Seifer stay at home (which is what he did now more often than not some six months later, leaving the two of them to take up the slack), but he just couldn't. On top of having to watch his two best friends fight like cats and dogs he had to watch one of them slowly wither away. Seifer was finally visibly thin and obviously sick, coughing more often than he spoke. Fuujin was out scrounging for game in an effort to bring back enough caterchipillar spikes to purchase medicine, so Raijin decided he'd just sneak into town and buy a few things to cheer up the place. Maybe some sweets, some wines, a few flowers would help soften things between them.

Fuujin came home to find Seifer face down in the sand, the ocean mercilessly lapping at his head.

Raijin swore later that her scream probably hit the Bluffs.

* * *

"How long ago was this?" 

"About a month ago." Fuujin responded, too exhausted from her extended speech to act annoyed that Rinoa had interrupted her.

"It took you guys _a month_ to get from Winhill to here?" asked an incredulous Zell. "Why didn't you just take a freakin' car or the freakin' train?"

"We didn't have any money, ya know," Raijin replied while Fuujin fought the urge to kick the boy, "and we didn't wanna come here at first, but we ran into some problems..."

* * *

"IN, NOW!" 

"For the last time, no," replied the gate guard. "Now leave before I'm forced to shoot."

This was their second attempt at salvation - Timber. Their first instinct had been to head to Galbadia Garden, where they hoped to find some sympathetic ears. As their former base, Raijin suggested that they might have a few remaining supporters, or at least some people who might be more willing to "forgive and forget" (ya know). If anything, SeeD medical facilities were substantially more equipped than some small-town doctor's office (even the dent Fuujin put into the Winhill doctor's door couldn't get him to help them). Deling City might match them (Esther might surpass them, but that was a near-impossible destination), but the new President would probably let ruby dragons trample over his fair city before he'd let his people be reminded that his government had willingly aligned themselves with the Sorceress.

Bullets bit the ground in front of them as soon as they were in range. A few seconds later, Galbadia Garden's special air attack unit had been dispatched and they were forced to make an exhaustive run for the cover of the nearby forest.

Seifer, slung sack-like over Raijin's shoulder, remained comatose up until the first night they made camp somewhere in the desert between the Garden and Winhill. He immediately demanded to know what sort of stupid idea this was, bringing them in the middle of nowhere just because he'd had a fainting spell. Amazingly, the duo found that their beloved leader was rather light-hearted about the whole deal, breaking the first smile they'd seen in months. They laughed for a while, remembered past glories and spoke of future endeavors, and ignored Seifer's occasional cough and wayworn appearance. Afterwards, they slipped into their bedrolls confident that the next morning would see them marching merrily straight back to their oceanside home.

Even Fuujin's well-meant, but miserably over-enthusiastic, kick to the backside couldn't wake Seifer up the next morning.

Though it slowed them down quite a bit, the remaining part of the ex-Disciplinary Committee trio decided that it was best to stick to offroad trails. Between Seifer's well-known scar and gunblade, Raijin's exotically colored skin, and Fuujin's eyepatch the three of them were just too recognizable. Possibly the local militia might tempt glory by doing what the government's own troops were unable to do: apprehend the infamous Knight and his two High Commanders. In their current hungry, trail-beaten state, down one man and lacking any Guardian Forces, their chances of making it through such a battle was slim.

Coming to Timber had only a slightly smaller risk factor. It took them nearly a week to reach the small town, over mountainous terrain and lakeside forests, harassed day in and out by the dangerous wildlife. The days in the desert had taken their toll on Raijin, and despite his objections Fuujin aided him in hauling their friend between places. Seifer drifted in and out of consciousness, and they spent his waking minutes in the shade away from prying eyes where they forced food and water down his throat.

Finally, they reached the train depot, only to be halted immediately by the stoic men who attended the town's gates. Fuujin shouted, Raijin pleaded, and still they were unrelenting.

"Look," the right gate guard finally said, sighing, "it's not safe for you here. We let the Knight in because he could handle himself. One good look at your sorry asses and every wife who lost a husband and every father that lost a son is going to take a potshot at you. It's for your own good."

"RAGE!"

The man on their left cocked his gun.

Fuujin's dark companion laid a staying hand on her arm. Seifer was once again slung over his shoulder to allow her room to handle things if the situation turned ugly. His voice trembled slightly, the hardships of the past days wearing on his usually steadfast spirit. "C'mon Fuuj, we're not gonna get anything here, ya know. We gotta go somewhere else."

"You know," began the right guard as they walked away, his volume a little louder than would have been necessary to talk to his gate companion, "the passenger train leaving at five today is gonna have a cargo carrier attached."

"Izzat right?" replied his partner.

"Yup. Hear it's just a buncha fruits they're importing over to Balamb, not a lotta important stuff. Not even one damn guard on the whole caboose."

"Shame."

* * *

"Those were some damn good fruits, ya know." 

"IDIOT." In their seated position, Fuujin traded a nice, satisfying kick to the shins to a much less gratifying smack to the back of the head.

"So what happened afterwards?" Quistis asked.

"Not much, ya know," said Raijin, rubbing the sore part of his skull. "Seifer hasn't woken up since we got off the train. He woke up once while we were in it and ate a little bit, but that's it, ya know. We kinda just camped out in the fields where the grass was taller so no one could see us, then just headed here. We weren't about to go into Balamb, ya know, even though I wanted to say 'hi' to some people..."

"What was all of that about the Sorceress?"

Squall's softly spoken question had most of the room's occupants looking in any direction _but_ his, trying to avoid the irascible demeanor of their current Commander. Fuujin's inner turmoil was a near match however, and she met his harsh gaze with her one good eye. "I don't know," she replied, her tone steady. "This is the first time I've heard of it." At seeing Rinoa, standing as close as she could to the wall behind Squall, her face twitched slightly in an attempt to avoid a contemptuous sneer. To Fuujin's joy, the peevish, would-be Sorceress huddled a little closer to her pretty-boy Knight.

"Waitaminit!" Zell cried, waving a hand up in the air. "You said he didn't wake up. What's up with... you know…" He drew a line across his belly.

"Oh yeah," Raijin said, his eyes in his lap, "guess he did wake up once..."

* * *

Since Balamb Garden had resettled back into the Balamb Plains, it was logical therefore to head in that direction. If that failed, their last possible resort was to head to Esthar, where the dopey, kind-hearted President might at least treat them to a bath, a meal, and a doctor. _Then _have their brains blown out. 

Unfortunately, before Balamb had lifted off, a good deal of the wildlife that was settled in the Training Center had been let free. Many of the members of Garden's Environmentalist Club had convinced the former Commander Cid Kramer that it would be cruel to subject the animals to the rough and tumble experiences of a portable home. He managed to negotiate the keeping of a few of them - at least those who had been hand-raised by SeeD keepers and were therefore unfamiliar with their natural habitat - but the rest were allowed to go free.

Not excluding the T-Rexaurs.

While they were hiding amidst the tall grasses, Raijin stumbled upon a cache of large, cat-sized eggs right near the inside of the nearby forest. Once back at their tiny encampment, Raijin cracked one open as a meal. He'd been intending to eat it raw, and even courteously offered the other two to Fuujin and his unconscious leader. The girl outright refused ("DISGUSTING.") and Seifer, comatose as he was, gave him the silent treatment, much to his chagrin. Out of the pieces of speckled shell fell a small, lizard-like creature, still attached to its yolk, covered in embryonic fluids and letting off a gut-wrenching smell. A closer look revealed tiny forearms, a long tail, and a mouth full of teeth that, though not completely formed, were definitely showing dagger-like development. Cold, terrified realization dawned on the both of them just as Mommy T-Rexaur let out an undeniably angry roar from a place far too close for comfort.

They attempted to run, and they got a good maybe fifty feet before she managed to get within striking distance. Raijin was forced to abandon Seifer's limp form to the relatively safe cover of the grasses so that he could help in defending the three of them from the twenty-foot tall beast.

"Futile" would have best described their efforts. They were bereft of magic and of guardian forces, leaving the both of them to rely on merely their wits, their strength, and a single weapon. Though Raijin would have had no problem hefting Seifer's gunblade, the skill required to use it was lost amidst his third year SeeD weaponry training (barely passed). Raijin's weapons were his fists, and Hyperion was far too complex a tool to be utilized at a whim. Fuujin's Shuriken surpassed excellence in defeating human foes, but against a T-Rexaur's thick hide it was trying pit her own flesh against a sewing needle.

Raijin made himself the dummy for attack, flailing and shouting to get the beast's attention, socking it in the snout when it tried to dive in for a bite, and allowing his partner to slice it up from behind as much as possible. They wore it down slowly but surely, but their own reserves were taxed at a greater pace. The loose dirt and bristly rushes worked against them as well, harrowing mobility. Sooner or later they would lose, but they would give it hell before they did.

Just as both of Fuujin's arm gave from the stress, just as Raijin's foot met the soft, yielding patch of mud that sent him reeling to the ground, just as the T-Rexaur dove in for what looked like the first meal of the evening, a blast of fire hit the side of the beast's head. Suddenly more afraid that the commotion had caught the attention of either the Balamb militia or the Garden's SeeDs, the duo looked towards its source.

Seifer was standing there, one hand outstretched, Hyperion in one hand, and a familiar smirk on his face.

What followed was the greatest, most elegant, and skillfully deadly Fire Cross anyone had ever laid eyes upon, at least in the eyes of the former Disciplinary Committee. The fire he'd summoned up from beneath the earth using his weapon's Ifrit-based power shot up and consumed the T-Rexaur as if hell itself had come to claim it.

Though her flesh was charred from head to toe, her eyes melted in their sockets, the thing continued fought for life, stumbling a few steps as flames licked its scales from head to toe. Seifer rushed forward, intent on finishing his technique with a clean slice from bowels to neck.

It was there that the rush of adrenaline ended, and the tables turned.

A claw, black and bloody, lifted on the T-Rexaur mother's foot as it fell, finally, from its grievous wounds. With exhaustion creeping back into his limbs Seifer's reflexes slowed, and he was unable to pull back from the beast's last, wild attempt to take revenge upon its stolen children. A ragged, ash-covered crevice opened up on his belly and his own blood splashed across the tall grass.

Too stunned to cry out, the duo rushed to his side. No tears shone in either of their eyes, only a grim determination. They wrapped their beloved friend in strips of bandages that Fuujin had stored for their journey, tying pieces of spare clothing to them when they ran out. He was bleeding, he was dying, and he'd slipped back into unconsciousness without giving them words of assurance, unable to hear their words of praise.

Balamb Garden's bright, spiraling structure was just down the road and they would make it, no matter what.

* * *

Raijin looked distinctly uncomfortable. "It's my fault, ya know, except we were just so hungry..." 

"AFFIRMATIVE," responded Fuujin to all of his statements.

"May I make a suggestion?" Quistis began, continuing when Squall made the briefest of nods. "Taking into account Seifer's actions when he saw Rinoa, some of us should concentrate on finding out what sort of effects on the spirit that being the Sorceress' Knight may have entailed." She gave Squall a piercing look. "It could be your future at stake as well."

"I volunteer," said Rinoa, tentatively stepping out from behind the SeeD Commander.

"Me too!" piped Selphie. "I'll get Irvine to look into Galbadia Garden's library, too."

"Yeah, me too," murmured a reluctant Zell. There were some things that could make a lengthy library visit worthwhile...

"Fine," Squall said. "Someone contact Esthar as well; talk to their President or see if you can get ahold of Odine."

"I'll do that," said Quistis.

"You two," he continued, pointing at the ex-Disciplinary Committee, "are to be confined to a dormitory until further notice."

"Aw, c'mon! We haven't eaten real good in a long while, ya know, and we wanna say 'hi' to some old pals."

"AFFIRMATIVE." Though no one in the room believed that the rather solitary Fuujin had some 'old pals' worth revisiting, she was definitely eager to consume something worthwhile. That and being imprisoned in a dorm would mean the closest thing to entertainment would be beating up her dumbfuck of a partner. She at least knew where all the weak links and hidden stashes were in the Disciplinary Room, providing that no one had bothered to search for them after they'd left.

"Whatever. I'll call Esthar, Quistis, you watch these two. You're not to go anywhere unescorted, including the bathroom."

"Ew!" Selphie exclaimed. "Glad I volunteered for the library!"

"Reconvene here three days from now at 1600 hours to report."

Rinoa presented a puzzled query, "Why here?"

"If Seifer's awake the first thing he needs to hear is what's going on." He looked at the doorway to his rival's hospital suite, his expression blank and unreadable. "And I don't want confidential information about the Sorceress repeated twice."

"All right now, shoo!" Doctor Kadokwaki began waving hand and clipboard at the individuals in her office as if they were children, no matter if they were SeeD and whether they held rank. "I have a patient to care for, and despite his past mistakes I do want him to get better, so go on and get this over with as soon as possible."


	3. Ties

** three **

"I really can't give that to you Sq -- Commander."

Squall repressed the urge to disconnect the conversation. A fist through the monitor would do nicely. One of the few good things to have come out of Sorceress Edea's relatively short reign was the reapplication of long-distance satellite communications. This meant that Esthar, though still isolated physically, could still be contacted without the use of unreliable couriers. It was a joy to some, especially those SeeD with family or sweethearts in other Gardens, but at this point the Balamb Commander would have given up every single satellite if only that he'd have the excuse to be there talking to Laguna in person... and be able to wring his neck.

It was one thing to be treated casually by old comrades, but it was something totally different to be treated in such a way by a fellow diplomat. The fact that he'd spent a good deal of time traipsing around Laguna Loire's considerably muddled brain did not make them "pals". The fact that he'd dropped the _motherload_ on him after they'd returned from Time Compression by letting him know that it was very, very possible Squall was his son did not make them "family". If anything, it made Squall want to spread the distance between him and his supposed father as far as humanly possible... and then some. He was grateful for his military upbringing and the forced dignity required by his current position, otherwise he'd be inarticulate for all the rage he felt.

Deceptively calm, Squall faced the fuzzy image on his monitor. The feed wasn't perfect, especially when Esthar's personal satellites and radio frequencies interfered with the ones that were regularly used by the rest of the world. "Why?"

"Information on the Sorceresses is highly confidential. It's on a 'need-to-know'" - here he wiggled two fingers on each side of his head - "basis. The Estharians are incredibly sensitive about their past and don't really like outsiders knowing the details." He sighed, as if he found the situation exasperating.

"I 'need to know'," Squall replied, bereft of the finger gestures but with the same, heavy sarcasm. "Now."

"Why?"

"We have a situation here. I don't know the reliability of your telecommunications security so I'm not giving out any details. All I need from you is to send all the information you have regarding the Sorceresses and their Knights as soon as possible."

"And if I can't?"

"You'll do it anyways," the Garden Commander snapped, his patience lost, "or the information will be taken by force."

An empty threat and Laguna knew it. Esthar's defenses were formidable, and with only one Garden's SeeDs under his command the boy was sorely outmatched in both manpower and technology. He paused for a moment, looking closely at the son he hadn't ever really known. Squall had been rankled from the start (more than usual anyways), which meant that whatever was going on had hit him personally and had hit him hard. Put together with the fact that he'd requested information on the Knight as well as the Sorceress; there was only one other person that could get under Squall's skin more than he could...

"Ah," the President exclaimed, lighting up with this new revelation, "I see! Well, in light of not wanting to start bad relations between us, I suppose I'll have to comply."

"Good."

"Give me twenty four hours. I'd like to send it through one of my personal assistants."

"What? Just send it electronically."

"No can do. Odine will have kittens when I tell him what I want. I'll transfer it all to CD and have it sent with someone I trust. After all, like you said, we don't really know the reliability of either of our channels, do we?"

"Whatever. Just get it here."

The stern, professional demeanor dropped (or, as Quistis tended to point out, what Laguna apparently _thought_ was a stern, professional demeanor), and Squall steeled himself for what was coming. The soft, imploring tone of his absentee paternal figure confirmed his suspicions. "Squall, can't we - "

"No," he snapped.

"I don't understand why - "

"I said _no_. Twenty four hours, no less." Connection severed abruptly, and the visage of the individual on the opposite end thinned and blipped into non-existence.

Laguna felt like screaming. He pounded a frustrated fist into his desk and blurt out an obscenity. Regretting a decision made almost twenty years prior seemed futile at the moment, but there were times he wished he'd stayed either with Raine, a peaceful life in a relatively peaceful village, or that he'd had the guts to take on Julia back in Deling. One way or another he'd be relieved of the nauseating feeling he got every time he saw his son's angled scar.

"Problems?"

"Same ones," he responded to his longtime friend's casual query. Dark, lithe Kiros, the voice of rhyme and reason walked into the office escorted by the silence giant, Ward. The sight of the two never failed to alleviate some of his worry and he faced them with an easy smile. Without such steadfast support and continuous reinforcement, Laguna felt that he'd be ill-equipped to juggling personal battles and the responsibilities to the people he was supposed to be leading. They were used to it, willing to let him take the forefront while they were free to hold him up in the shadows, lifting him up their shoulders when needed and dropping him cheerfully on his ass when they thought it was time for him to ease up.

Balamb Garden's former Disciplinary Committee would have sympathized. The thought made him wince. He stood up to pace, something he only did when he was extraordinarily agitated. "Remember when we were doing that movie?" he asked, absently scratching his head, though no physical itch bothered him.

"Yeah?" Kiros said. Mute Ward merely nodded.

"Remember how the guy had us doing some research, trying to see if he could put any sorta realism into the film while keeping to his budget?"

"Yeah?"

"Remember how we said, 'Damn, nothing in the world could make me wanna be a _real_ Sorceress' Knight'?"

"Yeah?"

He sat back down and directed his computer to open a local communication to the laboratories of Doctor Odine. "I need one of you to make a delivery to Balamb Commander Leonhart."

Ward lifted an eyebrow and crossed his massive arms. Age and lack of labor had done nothing to decrease his size (although his belly betrayed more of a jiggle than it once had). "Ward wants to know why you're asking us to do this," translated Kiros.

"VOT!" screeched the image of Doctor Odine. "I am doing very busy zings right now!"

"Just a bit Doc," Laguna said before turning back towards his compatriots. Enraged, the doctor fell to muttering accented obscenities at his President's back. It was something they'd learned to ignore - after all, Odine couldn't do without the government's money and the government couldn't do with Odine's innovations. "Indispensable" was what they labeled each other, no matter their personal misgivings.

"There are a few good reasons. The first is that I really can't trust anyone else to transport this stuff. If either of you got stopped I know for sure you'd swallow the package before surrendering it.

"The second," - pity and sorrow bent Laguna's smile into a heavy frown - "is that nothing in the world could make me wanna be Seifer Almasy right now."

* * *

"Hugk."

Seemed to be the closest he was going to get to vocalizing the profanity he'd had in mind. Some inconsiderate ass had shoved a tube down his throat.

Through a drug-filled haze he heard a female voice. An attempt to open his eyes only revealed a blur of colors and indistinct shapes. Someone clad in blue was sitting beside him, apparently the source of the enthusiastic warbling.

So he was alive.

He moved to check the wound on his stomach only to discover that someone had strapped him down. Most likely the same inconsiderate ass involved with the tube.

"Hugk."

_Fuck this, fuck that, I'm gonna _kill_ Fuujin when I get outta here. Should have left me in Winhill, or Timber, or something. What the hell were they doing dragging me all the way… somewhere… wherever the hell this is. Bet I'm in a Garden. If I'm lucky I'm in Balamb, if not we're in Galbadia and Fuuj and Raij have already gone in front of a firing squad. I mean, if we're in Balamb that means that they're gonna wait until I'm better and put all three of us in front of the squad at once so that they can send off their former Disciplinary Committee as a team._

He tried to laugh and ended up choking on the tube.

Warbling Woman was probably telling him not to talk, but he couldn't really tell. Wouldn't have listened to her as it was.

There was only one thing that could comfort him now, make him lie down and take the medicine that was coming to him, make him cooperate. He knew what he needed, he knew how to find it.

But how to make Rinoa see that _he_ was the Knight, not that fucking prettyboy?

_Oh God. No. What am I thinking? I'm _done_ being the damn Knight. Aren't I? I don't need that bullshit anymore. I've got Fuuj, Raij, nice place, no job, no status but hey, life's good, ain't it?_

_No. It's not._

_No goal, no glory, no goddamn anything other than a stinking little cottage with the only two people left in the world that'll bother to speak to you without trying to kill you. Maybe. Who knows. Fuujin probably wants to shove her big ol' boots right down my throat right about now._

_Maybe I should ask Squall to let me back into SeeD._

He chortled again, or did so as best he could.

_But that won't do it._

_It might._

_No, I need -_

_-- I DON'T need --_

_The Sorceress, I NEED her -_

_I need US -_

"Oagk. Nk." He reached for the girl, or attempted to. His fists clenched weakly in their bonds, quivering more from the lack of strength than the exertion of it. She wrapped her soft hands around his, murmuring softly. So comforting. Silver hair, brown hair, he couldn't tell; the lights and his poor eyesight caused a bright, indistinctive halo around her head.

_Rinoa. God, please let it be Rinoa._

_What? No, _Fuujin_. I need it to be Fuujin! Someone that still cares about me!_

_But she won't give me what I need -_

_I don't want - _

_I _do_ want - _

_Fuck._

_FUCK!_

"Hugk."

The tears were making their stinging pathways down his cheeks before he knew it, obscuring his vision so that everything became a singularly mushy blur of indistinguishable nothings.

* * *

She wiped the tears away with her hand, weeping bitterly herself, wishing that she knew anything that could comfort him. He collapsed a few moments later; the drugs Dr. Kadowaki had administered to ease the pain that wracked his sickened frame redoubling their efforts to comfort him. She leaned in, wiping away dirty, oily strands of unwashed hair. His handsome face, made calm by sleep, looked almost as he'd once been. The arrogance and the mindless devotion that had characterized the Sorceress' Knight were gone from his features, leaving the handsome visage she'd known and once loved. 

"Get away from him."

Few people had heard Fuujin speak in complete sentences. Many were the ones who had heard her speak words in anger. There were probably less than a handful of people who had heard her speak both furiously and comprehensively. Perhaps it was best that she barely used the latter; it sent a cold, fearful chill up Rinoa's back and caused the color to drain from her face.

"I - I was only - " Embarrassed, the young Sorceress leaned back and wiped away the moisture under her eyes. "I care about him too, you can't - "

"I _can_ and I _will!_" Fuujin snarled. She grabbed the girl's arm in a strong, painful grip and hoisted her from the chair beside Seifer's bedside. "You're not to get close to him _ever_. UNDERSTOOD?" she roared, reverting for a moment to her usual mode of speech.

"You… You can't stop me. I'll come in here whenever I want. Why are you being like this? I'm just trying to be his friend!" Pulling on the albino's grip did nothing to alleviate the pressure. If anything, Fuujin gripped her even harder. Rinoa gasped.

"Why? _WHY?_ FAULT, YOURS!" the silver-haired girl shouted, tossing Rinoa against the glass panes that separated the bed from the visitor's observatory. The frames shuddered at the impact but didn't break, having been built to withstand the possibility of an attack upon a patient. Nevertheless the noise, coupled with the girl's frightened cry, was enough to send the doctor running in.

"What is going on here?" Kadowaki demanded. Fuujin cast a disdainful look at her before peacefully sitting down at the chair Rinoa had occupied. The slighter brunette picked herself up, bruised and close to tears.

"Nothing," Rinoa whispered before fleeing the room. The doctor moved to one side to let her pass and then looked questioningly at the girl that remained.

"NOTHING," repeated Fuujin, deceptively calm.

"Fine." Frowning, unfooled, the doctor folded her arms. "Another incident like this, though, and I send in the guards at the door and have you put in lockup. Is that clear?"

"AFFIRMATIVE. CRYSTAL."

* * *

"AAAARGH!" 

The cry reverberated off the walls of the library, causing the other students to look up from their studies and glare balefully at the source. Zell hadn't noticed, however, though his companion looked mortified. Selphie clapped a hand over his mouth and grinned winningly at the people who were staring. Most of them, knowing well the tattooed boy's penchant for obnoxious behavior, rolled their eyes and resumed what they were doing.

Once Selphie had released him he apologized. "There's just nothing here!" he hissed. "Nada! Zip! Zilch!"

"I know, I know!" she whispered in reply, flipping through the ancient tome that was in front of her. "All of the stuff in our library was written by SeeDs. 'Sorceress ruled Esthar, blah blah blah.' 'Always accompanied by her Knight, blah blah blah. Not a word about Knights that went bonkers."

"What did Irvine find out?"

Selphie swiveled in her chair to face the computer near the wall. She pulled up her email and scrolled through the latest, giggling at the heart-shaped emoticons her lover had left at the bottom of his personalized introduction. "Nothing much. Some obscure references to some female Knights, loads of propaganda against Matron," a flicker of irritation swept across the plucky girl's face, "and tons more propaganda against Seifer especially since, uh, they like, know he's here."

"_Already!_"

Zell's second outburst signaled a chorus of simultaneous _shh_'s from the other students. June, the library technician that he'd been dating for several months now, and who normally protected him when he got out of hand, had already gone to bed. The only other SeeD and SeeD hopefuls that remained were those that were preparing for the upcoming midterms, and quite rankled to have been interrupted once again. Selphie glared at him and he sank into his chair, the skin from the tip of his ears to the bottom of his chin turning a dark pink.

"Yes, _already_," she said, whispering harshly. "They didn't exactly come in too quietly, you know."

"So what are they saying?"

"People are petitioning for his execution already. Some people want him jailed for life and stuff."

"He should be!"

"Zell!"

"I mean, look how many guys died because of his stupid 'romantic dream'!"

"So? Doesn't mean that we should just shoot people! Maybe he's sorry. I mean, look at him now."

Zell hesitated. "Yeah. I guess."

"Find anything?"

The two looked up at Rinoa's tear-streaked face with alarm and concern. She was cradling her left arm in her right, a colorful bruise growing on the back of the exposed flesh. As the young Sorceress sat gently in an empty chair seats all around them squealed against the floor. Other students left quietly but quickly, some leaving their study materials in their haste. Already miserable from her encounter with Fuujin, the slight girl bit her lip and sighed.

"Jackasses!" Zell roared, tossing a book at their backsides. One of them stopped and scowled.

"We're not staying around when we might end up like Seifer," he said before retreating from a flung encyclopedia.

"That's, like, so totally unfair!" Selphie wailed. "They can't blame you, Rinoa," she said, patting the other girl's arm in consolation. "I mean, we don't know why he's like that. Maybe he just went nuts."

"Maybe."

Now free to express himself at any volume he wished, Zell pounded his fist into the table rattling pens and papers and knocking a book to the floor. "No maybes! She's right! He just went nuts. It's nothing to do with you, okay?"

"Okay." She smiled at him. Though they'd known each other for only little more than a year, Rinoa found herself welcomed and treasured by the small group of heroic SeeDs. Part of the reason, she suspected, was that her love, and subsequent relationship, with Squall had managed to break apart some of the icy barriers he'd erected around himself. Even though now burdened with command, the change was apparent; the boy had begun to _socialize_. Where before he'd sought seclusion far above company, the newly appointed SeeD Commander could now be found in the cafeteria taking meals with everyone else, even partaking in games of Triple Triad. Though there were times when Rinoa'd had to literally drag him from his apartment to the more populated areas, he came voluntarily more times than anyone had thought possible.

On the other hand, being recently bestowed the grandeur powers of the Sorceress far outshadowed her success with Balamb Garden's beloved leader. A good number of students and graduates found themselves inclined to take another route to their destination if they saw Rinoa coming down the corridor. Though never threatened directly, the oppression had been there in stares and gestures, whispers and frightened cries. Both Quistis and Zell, out honing their already considerable skills, had come across the young girl in a state of utter despair, weeping in a corner of the training center where only the beasts would venture. She'd been trying to hide herself, hoping that Squall would be too busy to find her, afraid that her misery would only burden her overworked lover.

After that one or two of them always walked with her down the halls, chatting and laughing with her, reassuring the rest of the Garden members that the Sorceress among them meant no harm. Gradually the others warmed to her presence, forgetting the infamy associated with what she had become. Rinoa made a few other friends, and found herself more than welcome in their social get-togethers. During the last SeeD Graduation Ball she'd found herself whirled around the floor with no less than a dozen other partners, though a good deal of the night was spent gazing into Squall's beautiful gray eyes.

Only now, with Seifer's arrival and his maddened desire for her, the other students had now once again become fearful of her. She wasn't sure just yet, but she was certain the others were whispering of things like magical enslavement or prolonged revenge. Another disheartened sigh escaped her. Selphie wrapped her arms around her in a warm embrace.

"It's ok, Rinoa," she said as Zell began cleaning up their workspace. "I'm betting, like, we're gonna find out Seifer's just lovesick or something and he'll go back to his little hut and we'll go back to, like, being normal and stuff!"

"Yeah!" Zell added enthusiastically. "You'll see! It's gonna turn out to be nothing!"

"Thank you," Rinoa whispered. "I just hope he gets better."

* * *

"Clearing Estharian airspace, Mr. Vice President." 

Distracted as he was by the words and images on the ship's online computer system the gentleman in question merely waved in confirmation of the pilot's statement. He read, chilled, the high security documents within, information of the Sorceresses and their Knights that only Esthar was privy to.

_You were right, Laguna,_ he thought, _nothing in this whole damn world would want me to be a Sorceress' Knight._

He removed the disc and placed it in its case - a heavily constructed attaché that Doctor Odine had insisted they carry the information in. Should they be intercepted for any reason by anyone the old coot had insisted that they toss the thing out the window and activate the time-bomb he'd implanted into it just for such occasions. The Vice President looked out the window and prayed.

_I hope we're not too late to save you, Seifer._


	4. Exposed

** four **

Squall stared at the Estharian emissary and, not for the first time in the past two days, wondered why he hadn't just solved everyone's problems and had Seifer shot for treason the minute he'd stepped across his Garden's threshold. He was fairly certain he'd have no shortage of volunteers.

Little more than a few hours after they'd ended the meeting Quistis had treated Fuujin and Raijin to a few chilidogs in the school's cafeteria (Raijin had four). Despite all efforts to keep a close eye on the duo, Quistis' rather persistent Trepies managed to distract her long enough for both of them to slip away. Fuujin had been found a short time later beside Seifer after what Dr. Kadowaki explained was a loud argument between her and Rinoa. The latter insisted that nothing had happened save a difference in opinions and didn't Fuujin talk loudly anyways? Really, he had nothing to worry about.

Raijin, however, had relocated several of his old buddies. They had then proceeded to throw a raucous welcoming party in the dorms, much to the chagrin of the instructors and their neighbors. Drinking on school grounds, disturbing the peace, and destruction of public property were among the offenses that were incurred. A week of latrine duty and a dozen laps about the Garden perimeter followed, though the offenders claimed the return of their friend outweighed the punishment. Raijin was thrown back into Quistis' care with a glare from the Garden Commander that made even the toughest Trepie think twice about following their adored instructor around while she was on duty.

On top of it all, no one had found anything in either Trabadia's or Balamb's libraries that would amount to anything significant regarding either the Sorceress or her Knight. Most of what had been written in Garden research books had been done in the past year and primarily served to incite a negative response to what had happened. What wasn't lacking, however, were the hundreds of emails and letters that had flooded Squall's inbox demanding reparation for Seifer's actions during the Sorceress' War. Everything from "I'll never see my son / daughter / wife / husband / mother / father again because of what he did!" to "$3iF3r MuST Di3!(l337)" Loathe as he was to let anyone intrude on his personal files, he ordered a Cadet to screen the incoming messages for him under the threat that if anything found its way out of his office the boy would find himself back scrubbing thrustavaevis scales in Fisherman's Horizon without any hope of reprieve.

This was looking promising as the proverbial last straw.

The Estharian emissary responded little to polite requests, harsh orders, or deadly threats. When the SeeDs guarding the rear entrance demanded his name, his business, and the required papers, he would not, or rather _could not_, answer. Even when Squall arrived to take charge of the situation, the emissary didn't budge from his place at the end of his ship's loading ramp. The man merely reached out one massive arm and handed over a letter bearing the official seal and signature of the Estharian Presidency.

Squall fumed. "What the hell is this?"

The giant stared back. His lips twitched slightly, curving up and then back down.

"Fine. Just… fine. Whatever." The young man viciously tore open the letter, his mood not improving.

_Commander Squall Leonhat,_

_Heading Balamb Garden,_

_Acknowledged Hero of the Second Sorceress War,_

_As you have no less already seen, I've sent someone I think completely trustworthy to deliver the information. Ward has specific instructions to deliver the CDs to you and to insure that no one but your closest friends have access to the files - meaning that he has to present when you guys do your thing. Don't worry, I don't think he'll cause you any problems. Should anything happen, Ward is instructed to do everything in his power to keep the information contained within those files a secret, and I do mean everything._

_Secondly, there is one more piece of information that couldn't possibly leave Estharian borders and I insist that you and yours come to see it before you proceed with any rulings on the Former Knight. If possible, bring yourself, someone else you trust, and Almasy. Do not, I repeat, **do not**__ bring the Sorceress with you._

_Ward is also instructed to make sure all of this happens. I'll see you soon!_

_President Laguna Loire_

Squall peered at Ward who remained, as usual, stolid in the face of what the gate guards recognized as an eminent explosion. Both of them edged quietly towards the door.

The quiet, obscenity-laden tirade that Squall launched upon his father's messenger became a favorite tale among the Balamb SeeDs for months to come.

* * *

The information gleaned from Esthar's private files was carefully scanned by Selphie, Quistis, Rinoa, and a disgruntled Fuujin. Zell was assigned to help Raijin keep watch over Seifer and Squall dispatched Irvine from Galbadia to pick up Matron from her remote orphanage. Cid was happy to be left with the children that they'd gained since the end of the war ("Not a problem!" he'd told the rather reluctant Edea during the transmission) and urged Squall to come visit as soon as possible. The boy responded that he would whenever his duties allowed the free time, which, as Edea wryly commented, would probably happen when the moon turned blue.

Ward kept silent watch in the waiting area outside of Squall's office while two high-level SeeDs and two Estharian guards stood outside the door. Several laptops had been made available, though all the notes were being taken by hand; after the meeting it would all be burned. Research was done in a particularly uncomfortable silence with Fuujin casting rancorous looks at Rinoa from across the room and Squall's angry arguments with diplomats from other countries filtering in through the door to his private office.

"I don't care what you sort of priorities you _think_ you have on Almasy, President Kaplain, but he was a SeeD defector before he was a _glorious_ Galbadian General."

"That is -- I mean -- You also have his two accomplices!" came the gravelly reply. The politician's tone was far less firm than the SeeD Commanders, unnerved as he was under the calm rage of a military-born man. "I demand we have at least second rights to put these three people on trial! Do you what sort of damage they did to our country? They - "

"Of course I know what damage they did." Squall's voice went colder than his unwilling listeners had thought possible. "I was there, or did you forget? Maybe you did, seeing as how Galbadia seems to want the rest of the world to do just that."

The role of Squall Leonhart and his heroic SeeD compatriots was legendary. The role of Galbadia and her leaders was just as profound, though nowhere near as flattering; the late, former President's decision to allow the Sorceress to control his country was notoriously known as the catalyst that had sparked the War. Members of their public relations committee were still working hard to try and make the denizens of other cities forgive and forget. Their once flourishing economy had been broken by the slim flow of trade as many outside merchants now found conducting business with them distasteful. President Kaplain's sputtering response confirmed the fact that the situation still hadn't gotten under control.

Selphie risked whispering to Quistis. "He's been, like, totally short-tempered the last couple of days."

The SeeD instructor nodded while scrolling down the current open file on her laptop. "It'll all be better once we sort all of this out."

"Well, I don't think it will be. It's like, what's gonna happen to them, you know? And like, now Rinoa has to start over with people here and stuff."

"You never know. Rinoa's stronger than you - " A loud thump interrupted the otherwise quiet room. " - Rinoa, where are you going?"

All eyes drifted to the young woman, her hands over her mouth and her face drained of color. Her laptop lay on the plush rug at her feet. "Nowhere, nowhere. I think... I think I need a drink." The young Sorceress swiftly turned and ran out the door, startling the two pairs of guards (who were in the midst of an intense tournament of Triple Triad) and leaving even Ward staring after her in bafflement.

Fuujin stood from across the room and restored the fallen computer back onto the table. She would have been content to leave the vapid girl's research alone had she not glanced at content that lay on the shimmering screen.

"What is it?" piped Selphie, seeing Fuujin frozen mid-step. "What was she looking at?"

The roar of outrage that erupted from the former Discipline Committee member startled even Squall, whose conversation with the Galbadian President came to a sudden halt ("What, by Hyne, was that? Getting attacked again?"). A moment later the portable laptop was back on the floor after having become violently acquainted with the sole of Fuujin's boot. The shattered screen littered dozens of tiny shards into the carpet while its CD-ROM drive spit up Dr. Odine's precious research and sent it bouncing towards Ward. The offensive item would have met a similar fate had the giant not swiftly swept his hand down and retrieved it. As it was, Fuujin trod mercilessly on his foot and the Estharian Vice President let out a pained grunt.

"Fuujin!" Quistis cried. The young woman turned to the SeeD Instructor, her remaining eye casting a glare violent enough to send a chill down the blonde woman's spine. The albino then turned on her heel and slammed open the door, forgoing any attempt at a polite exit. The guards outside the door were scattered once again, though they quelled the same remarks towards the interruption that Rinoa had entailed. A biting comment towards Squall's silence resumed the conversation in the Commander's inner office.

Ward stood, as Quistis sighed and Selphie gaped, to place the disc into the Instructor's hands. She removed the one she'd been perusing (a detailed description of nearly every Sorceress who'd held Esthar since the first Sorceress War) and replaced it.

"'The Sorcerer's Knight: Personal Duties and Related Topics'," read Selphie from the screen. The three of them peered over (Ward's face expressing silent curiosity) as Quistis browsed through file topics. She clicked on one that was, partially by virtue of Selphie's giggles towards its title, looked to be the most scandalous. The next few moments were spent engrossed in the most intimate duties of a Knight to his Sorceress.

"That's, like, totally disgusting!" Selphie finally proclaimed.

"Is it true?" asked Quistis, looking at the Estharian representative. The giant shrugged as a bell rang over the Garden-wide intercom.

"Instructor Trepe, SeeD Tilmitt to Flight Loading Dock One. Instructor Trepe, SeeD Tilmitt to Flight Loading Dock One."

From inside the Commander's office Kaplain's shouts were suddenly cut short. The door opened to reveal Squall's typically emotionless face, his agitation revealed only by the clench of his fists. "That would be Matron," he stated. He arced an eyebrow at Selphie's hasty salute and even hastier exit, and then shot up both when he spotted the bludgeoned remains of Rinoa's computer.

"I'll explain later," promised Quistis, "but if we don't go now, I think Selphie might forget she's in front of a dozen other SeeDs when Irvine steps off of the transport. She's been promising to strip him with her teeth."

* * *

She closed her eyes and swallowed uncomfortably, fighting tears of sorrow, her long, delicate fingers barely touching the door. 

Behind it lay her greatest failure as a mother.

A boy who'd come to her broken and alone, a mold that was hers alone to shape and display to the world. She'd decorated him with her discipline and her heart, smoothed away the cracks left by his dead parents with pride and honor, and then set him to firm in the SeeD academy build by her own hands.

And then in a moment of pity, a moment of understanding, she embraced the thing that she'd prepared her whole life to fight. She'd felt the Other taking over, slowly and surely, eating away her consciousness and infusing her with an unwanted power. Before she could lose herself entirely she'd scattered her children and placed them safely in the institutions she'd built herself to fight what she had become. Those that were most important to her she sent under the care of her husband, hoping that he would somehow protect them from her.

What a failure he was. But married couples are sometimes so alike.

"Edea?"

Over a year since she'd left him, broken and alone...

"Matron."

A hand that was rarely gentle, that bore its scars and callouses beneath well-worn leather, lay softly upon her shoulder. She drew in a shuddering breath.

"Yes. All right. Open the door."

* * *

They encircled Seifer as much as possible, making allowances for the amount of space that was allocated for individual patients. Fuujin hadn't left his side, and a single fiery glance made Rinoa quiver deliciously. The girl stubbornly tried to sit at Fuujin's left and was squished out of the way when Raijin wedged his bulk in between the two. His attempts at striking up conversations earned him a kick in the shins from the right and silence from the left. Squall stood on Seifer's opposite side, leaning against the windowpane with his gunblade close at hand. Selphie stood on his right, Irvine next to her. The lovers passed discreet smiles at each other while looking considerably flushed. Quistis sat next to Edea, who wore a long, plain black dress that stood starkly against the glamorous image of her as Sorceress that the public feared and loathed, both of whom sat at the foot of the hospital bed. Zell sat on Edea's opposite side, one ankle crossed over the opposite knee, his chin in his palm. Looming over him was the Estharian Vice President, arms folded.

The man in question sat sullen and quiet, the tube down his throat removed but his restraints kept tight. A steady, careful regiment of healing drafts over the last few days had closed up the infected T-Rexaur slice (leaving, as the doctor predicted, a long, ragged scar) but hadn't restored his pallor. His eyes were still dark and sunken, his skin pale. Someone had taken the care to wash him and comb his hair back, but its old, healthy shine was still gone. Seifer's eyes, a bright, unhealthy green, strayed from Edea to Rinoa, lingered, and then set forward in a purse-lipped glare at what appeared to be Quistis' elbow.

Xu grilled a dozen SeeD graduates prior to the meeting regarding their ability to keep silent and their neutrality towards the Knight and his associates, eliminated three and replaced them, then organized the lot down the corridor to the infirmiry. Many SeeDs had begun campaigns and committees against the trio and there were rumours of underground civilian groups that were preparing to protest in front of the Balamb Garden. The fear of disciplinary action or violent reprival had kept most of them at bay, but it was decided to be better safe than sorry. Xu set herself at the end of the corridor in the event that all else failed.

Once everything had been settled Squall began the meeting. "We are here to confirm the accuracy of all information taken from the Estharian files. Once the meeting is ended Almasy, Instructor Trepe and I will leave with Vice President Zabac to return the discs and meet with President Loire."

"But --"

"There were specific instructions not to allow the Sorceress to go." Squall's voice warmed slightly as he faced Rinoa. "I'm sorry."

They began confirming power levels and spellcasting abilities, running through everything from simply walking through walls to the fearsome capability to combine with a Guardian Force. Both Edea and Rinoa offered their information and speculation. Edea was hard put to remember it all, having been under the control of the Sorceress Ultimecia most of the time her power was awake, and Rinoa had yet to explore her full ability. What was made clear was that the well of power a Sorceress could draw on was virtually limitless. Edea recalled being forced to exercise a good deal of control; the more power she wielded the more the desire to do so became. If it hadn't been for Ultimecia's degree of control the usage could have sent her towards destruction. Even so, the amount of power the futuristic madwoman forced into her new form often made Edea feel as if she were stretched thin upon some spiritual torture rack.

In a voice barely heard Rinoa admitted to the ecstasy that had surged through her when she'd rescued Squall from the whirlwind that had been the flux of time. Since then, however, fright and a good dollop of disgust had prevented her from trying to touch the power any further. With the Garden members' feelings of animosity plain it was easy enough to remind herself how remorseless the world had been when the Sorceresses fell from grace.

They moved on to the abilities of a Knight, which Seifer grudgingly either confirmed or negated. It seemed the individual made the man, and though the Sorceress commanded his fealty she lent none of her power. His abilities were what attracted Ultimecia to him in the first place, and his unwavering loyalty ("Lapdog is more like it," Zell muttered) kept him in her favor even after he had failed. Using Squall as comparison they also speculated to the theories that all Knights were gunbladers, and all began their careers young regardless of the age of their Sorceress.

"But, ya know, what about Seifer acting like he did?" interrupted Raijin. "We've known him almost all our life, ya know. He never acted that way before, ya know, all fanatic and stuff."

"AFFIRMATIVE."

Quistis shook her head. "Our theory is that the previous events, including his recent failure at the SeeD testing, consequently weakened him to outside influences. The Sorceress had found the perfect warrior to take advantage of."

"I am here, you know," came Seifer's hoarse, undignified response.

"There are some rather personal duties that were written about the Knight that we would like some confirmation about as well," Quistis continued. She opened the manila folder on her lap. "Here, and here. It was well documented that the Knight rarely left the Sorceress' side, unless it was to command her armies."

"That is correct," came Edea's low-voiced reply.

"Even guarding her private chambers."

"Yes."

"We also discovered several theories of a more... intimate nature."

"Oh?" 

Quistis cleared her throat. "In all aspects the Knight was undoubtedly her protector. Several Knights gave their lives to their Sorceress and had to be replaced. There are, however, speculations that the Knight was much more than just a protector. They say that he was her body servant, her confidant, and... her lover. In all aspects he was there to please and comfort her."

Edea went silent while Rinoa looked down at the hands folded in her lap. Squall's expression darkened considerably as Quistis coughed, unnecessarily shuffling and arranging the papers in her lap.

The tension was broken by Seifer's grating laugh. "So Squall," he said, tilting his head up to face him, "fucked her yet?"

"Whoa, whoa Squall!" cried Irvine as he locked together the lunging SeeD Commander's upper arms. "No good hitting someone already down, my man."

Squall shrugged the cowboy off without breaking the murderous stare shared by his rival gunblader. If only they both faced each other on equal ground, weapons in hand. Irvine was right - no honor, no delight in striking the man down while he lay sick in bed, wretched and weaponless. Then again, to eliminate him now was to solve their problems. No more dealing with government officials, no more of Rinoa's pitying expressions, and, particularly, no more dealing with how just the sight of him infuriated him and overthrew his natural inclinations of right and wrong. Nothing seemed to matter except how quickly he could shove his gunblade into Seifer's body and anyone in his way be damned.

What was _wrong_ with him? He'd never been so callous, even before love had softened his heart. Seifer's arrogant ways had always irritated him, even enraged him, but never without provocation. He was on the verge of ending the meeting then under whatever pretenses he could think of in order to better collect himself. However, Edea's soft, deep voice penetrated the sudden silence.

"It's true."

Squall, startled, snapped his gaze to his former Matron, seeing the faint lines on her face that were still left from her ascension to full power. She returned his look with a solemn, understanding expression that underscored his anger and left him feeling astonished and surprisingly hurt.

"It's true," she repeated. "Seifer and I shared my bed as often as I desired it."

The slender woman forestalled the sudden flurry of shocked exclamations and murmurs from all sides with a delicate, upraised hand. "I realize the implications. I was once like a mother to him. And though Ultimecia held my body and my power I was still me in many aspects. What happened then as I think of it now sickens me. I wanted him, I _needed_ him, and there was no reasoning to it. It was the basest of desires. Even now I still feel the pull, though it is not nearly as strong as it had been."

Fuujin turned to her beloved companion. Women were no mystery to him. Seifer's good looks, outstanding fighting abilities, and unwavering confidence seemed to attract bimbos like Rinoa to him one after the other. He'd never boasted, but when the girl passed him in the halls his lips would curl in what looked like a warm smirk and their eyes would meet in a promising manner. Rinoa had held him the longest, nearly a year, but like all the rest he supposedly lost interest and let her go. Afterwards, he never acknowledged them and they were content to leave him be. Those that clung found the single, furious eye of the Disiplinary Committee's female terror between them and their former man.

He'd never, not in all those years, looked uncomfortable about what had happened.

"Can we move on?" Seifer rasped.

"There's really nothing else," Quistis replied. "Squall mentioned that there was a final piece to the puzzle that was in Esthar and couldn't be removed."

The SeeD Commander effectively masked the continual surge of miserably confusing emotions with a cold expression. "Quistis will join me, Seifer, and the Vice-President. Zell, I'm putting you in charge of making sure each and every piece of paper written about these proceedings is burned. Afterwards, help Irvine watch over Fuujin and Raijin."

"NEGATIVE! ESTHAR, GOING. SEIFER, PROTECT!"

"We might need another hand," Quistis offered. "Seifer still can't walk."

"I'd be fine if you got me out of these goddamn restraints," muttered the former Knight.

"So you can get out and cause crap around the Garden?" Zell said, one finger punching forward to enunciate: "Get real!"

Squall, exasperated, leaned his head into his hand before regaining his composure. "Fuujin _stays_. Last thing I need is to have two out of the three people most wanted by the civilized world running around outside of this complex."

"Oh! Oh!" cried Selphie, her hand up as she danced from one boot to the other.

"Selphie I need you to help Xu deal with Galbadia and the other two Gardens. It's going to get worse before it gets better."

"Right-o!"

"Good. Quistis, Mr. Vice-President, we're leaving immediately. Ask Dr. Kadowaki to prepare a wheelchair for Almasy. Restrain him to it."

"Fuck," stated Seifer.

The SeeDs stood and saluted. Commander Leonhart saluted back. "Dismissed."

"Squall," Rinoa pleaded as the group began to file out of door. As he retrieved his gunblade from Selphie she placed her hand upon his arm. "Squall, we need to talk."

"I need you to watch Edea," he replied without looking at her. "When we get back we can take her home."

"Squall, don't put this off, please," she replied.

For a moment she saw it - a glimmer of uncertainty, pain, and heartbreak - before it retreated behind his neutral, distant mask. She wrapped her arms around him and placed her head upon his back. "You know I love you."

His arms moved slightly, rising up to place his hands upon hers. Then they stiffened and dropped, and his body sagged. "Not now," Squall whispered.

"But --"

"I said not now," he snapped, shrugging off her embrace. "We'll talk when I get back."


	5. Caged

** five **

The ride to Esthar, made uneventful by Squall's self-absorbed brooding and Seifer's drug-induced stupor, was swift but dull. Quistis' attempted conversations with Ward were predictably difficult and the pilots politely informed her that though the Estharian vehicle was highly advanced it required a considerable amount of concentration to make sure that they didn't plunge into the sea. She was forced to content herself with viewing the passing scenery: a long stretch of unused railroad above small, blue waves interrupted for perhaps a minute by the passing of Fisherman's Horizon. The rush of blood to her temples as the vehicle plunged downwards to land woke her up from an unintentional nap.

Seifer was awake, and only slightly alert as he shook off the effects of Dr. Kadowaki's pain killers. The gash in his belly had healed, the doctor had said, but his organs were still rebuilding themselves from the wound and his prolonged starvation, a process that she promised would be long and uncomfortable. All of Seifer's bravado couldn't get him up from the hospital bed without assistance and a great deal of cursing. Once settled into the wheelchair and rolled up into the transport he fell asleep, muttering obscenities at Squall's relatively inattentive shape.

The Commander stood to help him, the first truly active movement he'd made in the past several hours. Prior to that he'd sat quietly in his chair, Lionheart unsheathed before him, his hands folded over the hilt and his forehead pressed against his knuckles. Quistis wondered if what he was thinking about stemmed specifically from what Rinoa had run from and what Fuujin had attempted to destroy.

As she had been many times before in judging her former student, the Garden Instructor had been right. The Knight and the Sorceress, inexorably tied through unknown means and unknown reasons, the Knight perhaps so far as being forced to serve her in every way imaginable, and now every way unimaginable. Could it be, then, that was where Squall's affection for Rinoa lay? Was it possible that their "love" was nothing but a sham, an after-effect of her becoming the Sorceress? Was everything he'd felt for her been a _lie_?

What, then, were they going to do?

"Vice President, SeeD Commander," saluted the Estharian guards that met them at the bottom of the ship's ramp. "President Loire is over there awaiting your arrival, sirs."

Ward grunted a reply, and with one hand on Seifer's wheelchair Squall returned the salute. As expected, the President threw away all sense of propriety and half walked, half skipped his way to the group, a grin on his slightly wrinkled face and one friendly hand outstretched in greeting. As his warm manner was neither acknowledged nor returned the smile was reluctantly retracted and the hand moved upwards to sweep stray strands of hair back.

Squall gave another salute, decidedly colder than the one that preceded it, which was returned in a jaunty manner. "Evening, evening," Laguna called over the roar of the helicopter. "Don't suppose you guys want to warm up a bit before we go over to the Lab…?" He swept a hopeful glance around the gathering. The look may have continued to circle, as Squall was disinclined to respond and Laguna was, as usual, overly eager to extend the pleasantries, if it weren't for Seifer's exasperated sigh.

"My ass is rooted to this goddamn chair until we see whatever it is you wanted us to see," he declared. "Let's go already."

"Ah, well, I see." Subtle looks were exchanged between the Estharian Presidential Cabinet. It wasn't hard to miss the way Squall's fists had tightened over the wheelchair's handles when Seifer spoke despite the fact that his face registered no change. "This way!"

Laguna turned on his heel and left, looking as if he was torn between paternal misery and an unidentifiable dread. Quistis sympathized with the first and felt her heart wrench at the second. She swallowed the urge to grab both her former students and head straight back to the Garden and dutifully followed the President and his men. Squall followed, silently attempting not to regret going along with this farce.

A short ride along the monorail got them to Odine's laboratory. At the dock they were met by the ridiculously garbed scientist that headed the establishment, his hair in an unusual state of dishevelment. The cause was made clear, for as they approached he took one great handful of it, made as if to tear it from his skull, realized how few strands of it he had left and placed the offensive fingers once again behind his back.

"Ve are going down, down down down!" Dr. Odine declared, stabbing a finger in the stated direction. "If you are telling anyone vot ve are about to zee zhen you are not leaving! Ever!"

Quistis and Squall exchanged looks; last time they'd been in this area it hadn't taken much to escape and the abilities of the Estharian guards were laughable. Of more concern was the wounded Knight, though Squall would have been happy to tip the blonde boy over the side of a catwalk any time the opportunity presented itself. To placate the madman, however, the two SeeDs simultaneously agreed to keep whatever secrets there were down there to themselves. Seifer merely snorted.

"Fine!" Odine shouted. He jabbed his finger then at the Vice Presidents. "You, you! You are not coming!"

"But – "

"Not coming!" Odine jabbed the President in the chest. "Or ve are not going at all!"

"Fine, fine!" Laguna said, throwing his hands up in the air. "At least tell me why not?"

"She is being very agitated by visitors. Too many is too much!"

As the scientist spun on his heel and headed towards the interior elevator Squall lifted an eyebrow at Quistis. "She? Is it Adel?"

"Who else could it be?"

The Garden Commander spared one hand from Seifer's wheelchair to stop the President. "Why are we going to see Adel? Don't tell me she's still alive…"

"It's not Adel," explained Laguna as he followed the doctor, his hands stuffed into his pockets. An unusually miserable expression marred his normally careless face.

"It's her Knight."

* * *

After a lengthy, silent elevator ride, they arrived in a section of Odine's laboratory with an abnormal number of guards around the door. Laguna, accustomed to the twisted mechanisms of Adel's fallen Knight, moved well out of sight. With his eyes rolled he listened to Odine's emphatic lecture regarding his behavior, the gist of which said that the shock to the elderly woman's system after seeing the man who had taken down her beloved Sorceress was tantamount to murder.

Surrounded all four sides by empty space, a single reinforced walkway leading to her glass and steel walls, armed gunman positioned at every conceivable alcove, the three visitors expected to see a fantastical human beast who would frighten them with her very gaze. Instead the case held what looked like, at first, to be someone's very stringy grandmother, sitting in a bare room that carried nothing but a barren bed and a flat-paneled television screen.

Adel's Knight sat with her hands folded gently in her lap wearing a simple white shift and a pair of white drawstring pants. Her head was tilted forward with her oily gray and white strands, cut haphazardly to her ears, shadowing what appeared to be angular features. As they approached down the walkway her shoulders began to shake. Quistis feared she was weeping and voiced her concern. Seifer shrank back, as much as he could against his chair, recognizing the movement for what it was.

The woman was laughing.

"Knights now, Doctor," rasped the woman. "Let me guess: trying to see what sort of emotional backlash I might experience? Or maybe you're going to put them here inside me and see if we can't breed more of us together?"

"Visitors, Vian!" Odine proclaimed. "You are being polite, you are being rewarded. Zey ask questions, you answer, yez? I am taking you to Fishmerman's Horizon, maybe?"

Her head lifted and through unwashed tangles they gazed upon yellow eyes that bore little in the way of sanity. She stood on bare feet and walked towards them, the whole time looking like an old, old tiger; burdened by age but still bearing teeth, claw, and grace. When her palms slammed against the glass pane, even Squall started in fright. Tiny electrical whines erupted from different corners. Laguna's frantic waving prevented the meeting from coming to a sudden, smoking end.

"A vacation from these walls, yessssss," she whispered leaning her greasy locks against the pane, "back where I belong. By my Lady, by my Sorceress." Quistis and Squall quickly masked an expression of disgust, Seifer made no pretenses, as the woman licked the window and sighed. "I can _taste_ her on you. Who are you?"

"Commander Squall Leonhart, Balamb Garden. Were you really Adel's Knight?"

"Adel, my sweet Adel, my lovely Adel, why did you leave me here? Why did you not come for me? Was I not loyal? Did I not please you? Oh, Adel." The woman slumped down, the glass squealing as she went. "I miss you," she whined, and then burst into tears.

As the two boys stared, dumbfounded, Quistis continued the questioning. "How did you end up here?"

"_He_ did it," Vian moaned, "The pretty one, the stupid one. Three against one, no fair, _no faaaaaair_. Beat me and caged me, didn't let me out. She was so far away…" A fresh bout of weeping followed.

"Oh, fuck this," snapped Seifer, "why the hell are we here? To listen to grandma cry?"

A crack split the air and Seifer's head whipped towards the glass. One, wide yellow eye was mashed against the window and gazed straight at him. "Wh-What…"

"I can _see_ her on you," hissed Adel's Knight, "Her, and her, and _her_. All of them on you, in you, _around_ you." Bony hands grasped at him, nails scratching helplessly against her prison. "I'll strip the skin from your bones and weave them together for a gift. Then I'll protect her, I'll please her, she's mine, mine MINE! And you TOOK her from me!"

Vian stood and body slammed the glass over and over. "She'll take me back! I was the first! We'll be together, Knight and Sorceress! She's mine, mine, _MINE!_"

Jagged streaks of light erupted from all corners and engulfed the old woman in a blazing blue and white light. Still she continued, the split skin of her shoulder spraying her and her room with blood, until finally slumping down to the ground, leaving a streak of red to mar the otherwise pristine glass of her prison.

"Only stunned," piped in Odine from the side as he hobbled towards the visiting trio. "Vot is killing a Knight, it is taking much, much more." He snapped his fingers and a hidden door opened at the floor of Vian's prison. Heavily armed guards flowed out and began attending to the former Knight's wounds. "A stunning reaction, iz it not? Stay, stay until she wakes, ve are seeing many more things happen and – urk…"

Squall squeezed hard against the ruffles of the doctor's collar. "We are leaving NOW."

* * *

"One more time. Try."

With an exasperated sigh Rinoa reached forward, her fingers flexing towards the empty mug turned upside down upon the table. Standard black issue ceramic, the SeeD logo emblazoned in gold on opposite sides. Small, harmless, easy enough to pass her hand through like some ghost in a story. Easy said, frustratingly done. Predictably a light clink signaled yet another failure as her painted nail hit solid mass.

"It's not working," she cried, flinging herself backwards upon Squall's bed. "I give up."

The raven-haired woman sitting across from her gazed patiently at the young Sorceress. After their meeting in the hospital wing Edea had cornered the young woman. There were things that the former Sorceress could teach the current, things that only she would be able to convey from a first-hand experience. Though duty to their shared power was the excuse, they both understood the real reason for the lessons; Rinoa would be desperate for distraction while Squall was away and their troubles remained unsolved. As SeeDs, the others were in no situation to levy out the time. Edea, however, had plenty enough.

The first lesson was simple in terms of power usage: become intangible enough to pass through solid objects. Fingers through the cup would suffice for practice, and be far less lethal than viscera through a wall. Squall's absence meant his spacious apartments were open for use and his Commander's status merited privacy and an armed guard. The only ones with permission to come in were those that could be implicity trusted. Zell, in fact, had volunteered to share guard duty with Selphie. Their rambunctious game of Triple Triad was going spectacularly well on Selphie's side, judging by the number of roaring male protests.

"Again," said Edea. Rinoa moaned.

"Any more and my head will burst," she replied. "I feel like I've been banging my head against the wall."

"You are trying too hard. You must relax, feel the power, open yourself to it, but only a small amount. Too much –"

"—And I'll overflow, I know, I know. Why do I need to learn this anyhow? I'm not going to be a great Sorceress queen or something. I'm just going to stay here and marry Squall and get fat with lots of kids."

Rinoa sat up, a bright smile on her face, hoping her quip would lighten Matron's mood. If anything, Edea's face had darkened. "You should take this more seriously. No matter what you think, what you want, or what you say, you _are_ the Sorceress, imbued with all Her powers. They are there and they can be used, and if you do not learn how to control them they will take you over."

"Well then I won't use them." A pout settled on Rinoa's lips. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and batted her heels on the mattress.

"So I said as well when I found the battered woman on my doorstep. 'I will a vessel and wait,' I thought. 'When I die there will be another, and then it will be her worry, not mine.' The power stayed and welled and bided its time, brimming at the surface, boiling, until the day when I needed to use it, when there was no other way to do what needed to be done, and it overwhelmed me."

The younger woman dug her nails into her arms. "What happened? Why did you do it?"

"Never you mind," Edea snapped. "All you need to know is that it did. And I would save you from the madness that took me. You are new to it and it will not have built up as much as it could have. Now, again, concentrate."

Resignedly Rinoa stared at the mug. She felt for the power, grasped it, slippery as it was, greased with her doubt and reluctance, and this time miraculously kept hold. Her fingers slipped through the outer rim and a delicious tingle spread through her hand as they passed through the ceramic and the wood it sat on. She prepared to vocalize her triumph.

…Yet now that she had the power, why, there was so much else she could do! The cup lifted and twirled and bounced on the table. It shattered to a thousand pieces and the shards swirled in a cyclone. Edea was growing increasingly lower, annoying cautions hurled at her one after the other. Easy to quiet the creature by flinging her to the wall. The body slumped with a cry. Good – shut her up and the others outside the door.

The Sorceress was in the air now, sitting on a cushion of molecules, delighting herself by hurling the mug's shards into various other explosive items in the room. Mirror, lamp, window all met the same fate. When the intruders burst into the room she paid them no heed beyond a casual flick of the wrist that sent them flying.

Shards filled the room, beautiful, wondrous, blinking in the daylight and sparkling off of the walls. They danced, oh how they danced, and their show was for her alone. How could she have feared this, how could she have thought of giving it away? It filled her, completed her. It was more thrilling than adventure, more satisfying than any erotic gratification, and there was nothing more she needed. Well, perhaps one more thing, a suitor, a guard, a slave, someone that was incomprehensibly _needed_….

A hand grabbed her leg, and a bloody _thing_ was looking up at her. Some female was moaning her name and pleading like a baby. She pointed at the remains of the mirror and the Sorceress obligingly looked, if only to bequeath the creature a final request before she was burnt to a crisp.

A monster looked back.

And Rinoa screamed.

Everything fell to shatter noisily on the ground, and Rinoa barely hit the side of the bed. She tumbled over Selphie, clutching her face, and curled up into a ball. The power fled leaving a painful void, but a welcome void, one that proclaimed her return to sanity. Others came and left but she remained where she was, weeping furiously and clawing desperately at her face. Only heavy sedation stopped her and even then the tears continued to fall.

In consideration for the young woman, Dr. Kadowaki shut all the lights around her hospital bed and closed all the curtains. No one need see the change until it was absolutely necessary.

* * *

The glass windows around the President's office offered a stunning view of the city both during the day and night. Though the spectrum of lights, both technological and magical, would have taken the breaths of many, the effect was completely lost by its current occupants. Quistis stood in front of one such window under the pretense of watching the latest train hum by. It took quite the effort to bite back her questions.

Squall, however, dispensed with formalities. Contrary to his quiet nature, the minute the door was closed he roared out the question that was on everyone's mind.

"What the _fuck_ was that?"

Laguna's eyes widened at the profanity. He sputtered through the beginnings of a few well-intentioned sympathies before he was rescued. "If you'll sit down and be calmer we'll explain," said Kiros, gesturing at the room's well-cushioned couches.

The SeeD Commander and the Estharian President locked gazes. "He's not sitting," Laguna said finally, "but I'm going to."

The older man plopped into his desk chair with a sigh. He ran a hand through his graying head. "Not everything went so hunky-dory after Adel was locked away. Enough people were happy to see her go but enough of her supporters were left to start a small rebellion. Vian, as the last of her Knights, spearheaded the movement."

"Vian's a woman," interrupted Quistis.

"And you've read the files," Laguna answered. "The duty of the Knight meant to satisfy the Sorceress night or day. So you can guess where Adel's tastes lay."

Seifer's dirty comment was cut short by a swift smack to the head.

"Not only that," the President continued, "but Vian wasn't the first of her Knights. Being the popular woman that she was, Adel had a good deal of assassination attempts and uprisings, ours being the only one that was even remotely successful. Her Knights fell like dominos for a while. Vian just happened to be there.

"Anyways," sighed Laguna, "we were all up and going establishing the new government and laws and stuff like that when we got word of an armed battalion coming up our front stoop. Looked outside and there was Vian with a small group of insurgents, batting her way through our security force like she was the bat and they were the balls. Our lucky stars were that by the time she'd gotten her troops gutsy enough to come at us she'd gone well down the path of insanity. No one's life meant anything to her, even those she'd coerced into following her into the building. By the time she'd gotten far enough inside the complex that she was a threat to me and mine, most of her soldiers were crippled or dead.

"She was absolutely obsessed with getting her way to Adel. I'm pretty sure she'd have walked her way to the moon if it had been possible. The three of us had one hell of a time slamming her down, but once we did we made sure she stayed that way. We've been trying to cure her ever since."

"That was over fifteen years ago!" exclaimed Quistis. "You can't tell me you haven't made any progress since then."

"On the contrary," said Kiros. "Because of Vian we've been able to document more of the more intimate details you read in those files. She has her periods of lucidity, but it's taken a lot of patience."

"Plus," Laguna added, "the longer Adel stayed without power, the more sane she seemed to become. But when Edea finally came out, _and_ you awakened Adel again, well…"

Ward grunted.

"Yep, back to square one," translated Kiros.

"So what the hell am I supposed to do now?" asked Seifer. "Wait until Rinoa dies so that I can be normal again?"

"We don't have an answer for you," Laguna replied. "However, seeing as how being with the Sorceress seems to be the healthiest position for a Knight, Odine suggests making sure you have regular contact with Rinoa for the time being."

Now it was Squall's turn to sputter. His grip tightened on the handles of Seifer's wheelchair. No one present doubted that if the windows had been thinner the former Knight would have been flying out of one of them open or not.

The unhealthy silence that followed was interrupted by the beeping of Squall's communications device. He yanked it out of one jacket pocket and demanded, "What?"

"Sir, Commander Sir," crackled the other end, "Garden's contacted us. Galbadia's made an ultimatum: we surrender the Sorcerer's Knight or they attack. Their army's already started the march, sir. They could be at Balamb within a week!"

Squall dented his hand with his forehead, resisting the urge to beat Seifer senseless with the equipment. "Fine, whatever. We'll be there shortly."

Laguna met Squall at the door, pulling him aside. Quistis overtook Seifer's wheelchair and led him out, Kiros and Ward following. "Please do what I said, Squall," father pleaded to son. "I know you love her, but you can't let him become what you saw. For pity's sake, he'll be a raving lunatic if this keeps up."

"He'll be _dead_ way before then," Squall snarled and let himself out.

The breathtaking view of Esthar was colored red by the evening sun. As Laguna stood there, chilled by the SeeD Commander's last words, he couldn't help think how much it looked as if his beloved country was bleeding.


	6. Disruption

** six **

The trip to Esthar seemed a riot of noise compared to the silence that lay thick between the plane's occupants on the way back to Balamb Garden. Its occupants once again sat buried in their own thoughts, but every creak of Seifer's wheelchair or shift of Quistis' boots made the pilots flinch. Squall moved not at all.

Their landing was made amidst a combination of chaos and order. Armed and uniformed SeeDs were positioned strategically around the landing pad. Stiff salutes from abnormally solemn Selphie, Xu, and Zell belied the roar of the uninvited crowd around the base of the Garden. The trio politely yanked their Commander from the plane leaving Quistis to deal with the invalid.

Once the whine of the plane died down the three just about jumped down each other's throats to offer explanation. Squall's murderous expression squeezed the waterfall of words down to a dribble. A pointed look at Xu opened up a clearer account.

"They arrived a few hours ago, a small group of them anyways, almost right after you left" said Xu as they rode up the elevator to Squall's office. "They've been trickling in since then. Most of them are just rubberneckers, but there are a few that mean business. Fuujin and Raijin are locked up in the Disciplinary Room and Irvine's in charge of their guard. A lot of those people out there want his," she thumbed at Seifer, who scowled, "and their bodies swirling around on our Garden's flight ring. On top of that the Galbadian army's still on the march, but they're moving slowly. Their President's with them and he's no soldier and they're going at his pace. I bet their Commanders are chafing at the bit. We're lucky there's too many to fit in a train, but when they get here they're going to be violent."

The door swished open and Squall came to a sudden halt. The others were forced to remain in the elevator or run him over. Without turning he muttered orders. "Get him healed fast, I don't care what Kadowaki says. Speed is more important than quality. Set up a firing perimeter around the crowd. If they get more violent make it clear we're ready to shoot. Send Rinoa up here at once."

"But Squall, Rinoa…"

Irritated beyond measure, past the point where polite conversation was a possibility, he drew breath to give Selphie a dressing down that would have had even her rambunctious attitude quelled. Amazingly enough, Seifer came to her rescue. "Something's happened, dipshit. Can't you feel it?"

Unused air caught in his throat. Now that it had been brought to his attention, he _did_ feel it – a strange sort of anxiety that slowly grew to encage his heart in ice. Only one thing could have set both former and current Knights in a unified front.

The Sorceress.

Silence high on her list of Least Favorite Things, Selphie resumed her explanation. "Rinoa got hurt. Well, she kinda hurt us." She tapped her head. A small band-aid decorated her scalp. "Edea and her, they're both in the hospital wing with Dr. Kadowaki, and Rinoa won't see anyone or turn on the lights or anything. I think she's waiting for you."

Squall bit back the urge to scream and shoved his way back into the elevator.

* * *

Dr. Kadowaki promptly refused to treat Seifer as demanded. She returned him to his bed and hooked him back up to IVs amidst Squall's silent disapproval and Seifer's quite vocal one. The Commander was the Commander, but where her patients were concerned she was most certainly the one in charge.

When Squall inquired about Rinoa and Edea the doctor gestured at the dark, curtained room at the far end of her hospital. The elder woman was sitting in a wheelchair in front of the door, her hands in her lap and her face down. Up close he could see her fists were clenched, the knuckles moist with tears.

"It was my fault," Edea whispered. "I did not expect… Everything is so strong… Might be too late… Please, Squall, don't hate her now."

Puzzled, he blinked at her. "I…"

"Don't say that you won't or don't or never will." Edea drew in a quivering breath. "Just try not to."

For once he didn't bother to mask the worry on his face. He turned on his heel and whipped aside the curtain. A wail erupted from the inside bed and he regretted the hasty move. While the girl buried herself under white sheets, her head pointed as far away from him and the light as possible, he rearranged the disrupted panels until shadows once again ruled over the tiny room.

As soon as he sat on the bed she leaped on him, weeping piteously. Squall wrapped his arms around her and for a moment all was right in the world. She was so soft, so warm, and she smelled so good. Just being near her fixed what was wrong, touching her made it seem as if nothing was every going to be wrong again. He laid her head on hers and her sobs quietly melted away. "I love you," he whispered.

"And I love you," she whispered back. She brushed her lips on his, salty with her tears. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt anyone. I couldn't control it."

"Control what?" If she did that again... and, oh, her legs were bare, gleaming pale in the single sliver of light that escaped anyone's effort to conceal… her breasts pushed against his chest as she hugged him tighter…

"Edea was trying to teach me, I don't know what went wrong… it all went out of control…"

"Teach you what?" he leaned forward to kiss her, stroke her face, tell her everything was going to be all right…

…And his fingers touched ridges and grooves that had certainly not been there before.

* * *

Seifer watched the pretty-boy back his way out of the shadowy alcove that was Rinoa's hideaway with the most delightful look of horror on his face. If he'd had a camera it would have been a moment to preserve. Why a single glance would have sufficed to bring him out of the meanest of doldrums. The moment was broken by Rinoa's heart-wrenching pleas for him to return, for him not to go, for Hyne's sake not to hate her for what she had become. It melted into silence (when by old Rinoa's standards, as Seifer had so often experienced, it would have developed into a whining, keening wail), Squall disappearing from his line of sight.

His heart and head alternately pounded, Kadowaki's IVs the only thing preventing him from getting up and smashing his way through his frustration. He was worried, _stupidly_ worried about the woman, and he was angry, enlightened as he was now by their trip to Esthar. Was he or was he not feeling so goddamn fucking upset because he still cared for Rinoa, a relationship long since soured by his ego and her immaturity, or was he just going really fucking nuts?

_Whatever it is, look at me. My skin's hanging off of my bones. I need to regroup, refocus… get some exercise in. Can't protect the Sorceress if I'm—_

_Fucking a', I just need to get up! Get out of here! I'm no longer a fucking Knight! Ship's sailed, door's closed, end of discussion!_

_Then why does the thought of leaving the Sorceress, leaving RINOA, make me so goddamn miserable? Someone just fucking SHOOT ME and get this over with!_

Seifer thumped his head against his pillow hard enough to smack the bars that made up the hospital bed's headrest. Bereft of his breathing tube his profanity was quite clear.

"SHIT!"

He drummed his heels against the other end of the bed as he pressed laced fingers against the growing lump on his head, all thoughts of Sorceress and Knight and madness driven from him by the most irritating sort of pain. Occupied as he was, he failed to notice Squall approach.

"It's your fault, you know," stated the Garden Commander once Seifer had stopped writhing about.

"Brilliant deduction, jackass," Seifer replied, his fingers gingerly poking the back of his head. "Next time you whack your head I'll be there to state the obvious."

"I meant... this." Squall waved his hand around. "Everything. If you hadn't shown up…"

"Fine. Sure. My fault. Whatever." He shot a sickly, sardonic grin up at the Garden Commander. "Oh wait, that's what _you're_ supposed to say."

Murderously quick, Squall darted forward, a battle-hardened hand encasing Seifer's windpipe in a grip so tight not even a croak emerged. Fatigued hands and emaciated muscles plucked uselessly at leather gloves and jacket sleeves. Precious oxygen slipped and consciousness threatened to follow, but death was apparently not the intent. Through the blood roaring in his ears, Seifer heard Squall whisper in a voice unnaturally laced with hate.

"You're going to get well. You're going to walk and train and do whatever the _hell_ it is you need to do so that you're back to your old self."

The grip loosened enough to let back in some air, and for Seifer to insert a useless query. "Why the fuck for?"

Their eyes met. And Seifer knew the answer, and, for a moment, agreed…

…For only when they were at their prime would their duel, their _war_, matter. Only then would the Knights truly be able to prove to the Sorceress who held the true right to hold her standard, bear her burdens, be there at all times to do their duty. Only then would their death bring true meaning, glory all the more to the victor for having vanquished so terrible and terrific a foe!

…Only then…

"No…"

Squall's grip fell. His eyes regained that look of horror that so delighted his unwanted counterpart so many minutes before. The same terror was undoubtedly etched in Seifer's own expression bringing a moment of unity between two rivals that either would have given valuable extremities to never experience again.

"Get out," Seifer whispered. When the other Knight didn't move he raised his voice. "Get out." Squall obligingly moved a few hesitant steps backwards. "GET OUT! _GET OUT, FOR FUCKING HYNE'S SAKE!"_

Once, the sight of Squall retreating like all of hell was on his heels would have set off a fit of mirth. Now no one could claim that the hoarse laughter clawing its way out of Seifer's bruised throat held any sort of joy.

* * *

The teeming mass below the Garden's spiraling discs seemed to defy all comprehension. What had started out as a pitiful assembly of war veterans and bored young adults had grown into a conglomerate of both the serious and the ridiculous. Some paraded signs, a good deal of them bearing bloody images of the dead and maimed, while others seemed to be crowded together around a leader or three in what could eventually be sparse outbursts of unified violence. A good number of people on the outskirts of the crowd had set up picnic blankets and baskets in the hopes of a good show.

A contemplative group sat on the edge of one of the second floor balconies. The heroes of the Sorceress War had bled more than others, lost and gained, and now weighed the lives of three over the welfare of the many. If it hadn't been that their Commander's sanity seemed to be at stake as well…

Squall had torn out of the Hospital Ward at an undignified sprint, toppling Xu and Irvine who'd been guarding the door and spilling himself onto the concrete in the process. Despite bruises and a torn pants knee he'd picked himself up and resumed running. Students and SeeDs skirted quickly out of the way. Quistis, as friend, teacher, and co-worker decided to attempt to stop him by standing in front of him only to find herself toppled over into the nearest bush. After being helped out of her predicament by local Trepies she'd attempted to follow the Commander. The elevator door banged shut a moment before she could slip her arm through.

"Hyne, he looked frightened."

"What's that you say Quisty?" called Selphie.

Quistis ran her fingers through her hair. "Nothing."

As Zell sent an impressive blob of spit arcing through the air (to inevitably land, hard, on the head of an unsuspecting sign-holder), Irvine gripped her gently on the shoulder. "The man will be fine."

"I know," she replied glumly as a small bout of disruption erupted below. Zell's victim, having decided that a neighbor was at fault, was venting pent-up frustration. "It's just that I feel like we're missing a part of the puzzle. There's a lot of 'what' in those files and not a lot of 'why'. Right now it just looks like blind obedience from Seifer and Vian, but it doesn't make a lot of sense."

The crowd below was getting decidedly more physical, the chaos spreading outwards from the spittle covered protestor. Zell's eager pleas to get Selphie to take on bets were being quashed by her amazingly reasonable attempts to get him to notice what he'd started. Irvine turned away from Quistis in order to assess the situation. A beep on the Instructor's radio prevented her from doing the same. One of Squall's aides requested her presence from the other end to receive a call from Esthar.

"The Commander should be taking this," she replied.

An outright brawl was unfolding on the plains. Barked orders and frantic shouts were filtering in from the balcony's open door. Zell took the opportunity to bolt from the combined wrath of Selphie and her beau. "The Commander is indisposed, sir," replied the aide.

"'Indisposed'?"

The young man cleared his throat. "We… can't find him, sir."

Quistis pressed her hand against her forehead in a gesture more appropriate to her missing compatriot. "I'll be there as soon as I can."

* * *

While Selphie, Irvine, and an embarrassed Zell attempted to quell the melee that had spread across the Garden's unwanted mob, Quistis received the video call in the Garden Commander's office with some trepidation. With Squall missing, Rinoa morose, and Seifer apparently having random fits of what the Hospital Ward's nurses were calling "creepy giggles", contact from the country that had birthed these troubles was too coincidental. She pressed the accept button and stared, dumbfounded by the sight.

"Ow – Stop – Get off!" A CD, waved high in the air, was accompanied by the fluttering of a well-embroidered sleeve. Familiar brown and gray hair, frazzled by whatever skirmish was occurring at the time, moved in and out of view. "For the love of – WARD! Get him OFF!"

"You vill not share zees information!" cried who was obviously Dr. Odine. A arm, its ruffles skewed, caught the sleeve and dragged it to Quistis' left. "It iz much too valuable! Return zee di – AWP!" Both arms disappeared and the visuals jiggled and warped. The entire thing tilted to the left with a clunk.

"Lock him up or something!" Laguna ordered as he righted his end and smoothed his apparel. "Just – I don't know! Don't look at me that way! I didn't mean to hit him so hard!" The President looked at the screen, a wry smile twisting his lips. "Sorry Miss Trepe, but Odine decided to be more difficult than usual."

"Can I help you, Mr. President?"

"Yes, well, yes, you see…" Sighing deeply, Laguna brandished the sought-after CD. "I discovered this after you guys left. Seems Odine was holding back. I can't really take it out of here and from what I hear you guys can't really leave, so if you could call everyone you can together so I can share its contents that would be great."

"It might take a bit," replied Quistis. "We've got a growing situation outside and Squall is missing."

"It's important. Really important. I think we might have a way to cure them with the information that's on this disc."

Quistis allowed herself a smile and had opened her mouth to exclaim their good fortune when the President held up his spare hand to forestall her. "Don't tell me how wonderful this is just yet," he said in a voice as flat as she'd ever heard it. "It's not going to be easy."

As the office doors burst open and Xu announced an eminent riot outdoors, Quistis' smile faded. "It never is, Mr. President."

* * *

There was gore on his gloves. Putrid, sticky gore.

He wasn't sure how long he'd been staring at it, only that it was still wet. Grats by the dozens lay strewn about in various states of dismemberment. Mechanically he knelt and drew from the nearest corpse a long string of viscera and tore it apart bit by bit between his fingers. His eyes gazed about dully at pieces of similarly treated organs. Cold realization gripped his innards as he realized what he'd been doing.

Before that moment, Squall hadn't thought it was possible to throw up so much.

When he was finally done, he sat back, squelching on the unavoidable pile of remains that lay around him. He was in a rather isolated portion of the Training Center, one that was rarely visited due to the slippery nature of generous portions of Grat refuse. The stench was awful, made tenfold by the massacre he'd just committed. It couldn't have been more than maybe twenty or thirty minutes since he'd ran out of Rinoa's hospital room.

Couldn't have been…

Lionheart was a disgusting mess, one that would take hours to clean. In not much of a better state was his clothing and hair. Whoever cleaned up the bathroom after he was done was in for one hell of a surprise. His concern for something so ludicrous caused an uncharacteristic bubble of laughter to burst out of his throat. Before he knew it, however, the mirth dissolved into uncontrollable sobs.

He was going mad. There was no other explanation. Vian's baleful, yellow eye stared up at him from a pool of blood. Seifer's furious, too bright greens flashed at him from another, daring him. Lionheart's handle squelched in response to his reflexive grasp.

_...Come back…_

"What?"

…_Come back come back come back..._

Squall swiveled on his heel, took one step towards the far-off door.

…_Come back and comfort me, love me, love me, I'm _weeping_ and I'm sick and I'm hurt…_

He slipped and slammed into the ground elbow and hip first. Pain shot up all the way to his fingertips.

_My love._

Squall scooted the best he could, struggling towards the edge of his gore-patterned mandala. There he was certain that his leather boots wouldn't betray the tattered remains of his dignity.

…_My Knight._

Quistis found it much easier to track him down when he was howling at the top of his lungs.

* * *

President Winter Kaplain laid himself out on his cot with a grunt of satisfaction. Plenty of furs and silk made for a comfortable traveling bed. Now if only he'd been able to convince his mistress to join him for the trip then he'd have her sumptuous bosom for a pillow as well.

Life couldn't be better. He'd left Galbadia among throngs of shouting, screaming supporters, teenage boys begging to be the next grunt in his considerably expanded army, women volunteering for camp duty, wives and husbands bidding their loved ones a hearty farewell. His political career was in the pocket. Two months from now when election time came all polls indicated the eminent flattening of all opponents.

If only those pesky military boys would stop pestering him to go _faster_ and more _carefully_. What was he supposed to do with his servants, leave them behind? Certainly not! And marching so arduously through such dirty, sweaty terrain? He'd arrive looking like a peasant! Of course his carriage and chocobos were necessary! They were of the best pedigree, the finest appearance, even if they were a little on the pampered side. Each and every town they passed should see their might and hear their purpose. Should Balamb be _convinced_ to let the Knight and his cronies go then pedestals should be erected in preparation for their return trip. Maybe a month's display on each would suffice. After that the infamous trio would be _begging_ for death.

Humiliation for humiliation. They would _pay _for their indiscretion. Perhaps then trade would resume and his third re-election could be secured.

Kaplain settled for sleep. At their current pace they were estimated for arrival in a week. Two more towns on the way, including Balamb itself. On top of that, word had it a considerable crowd awaited their arrival. He'd better make sure his lungs and throat were in ample condition. Perhaps he'd write a speech…

"_Help me…"_

_The beautiful figure floated above him and he was certain it was beautiful… and naked. It skimmed towards him and gently ran one finger down his nose. Lips as soft as silk lingered upon his. He tasted strawberries and wine and the unique flavor of his left-behind mistress._

"_Are you real?" he whispered. A stroke of his hand through her hair brought him joy. He touched and smelled everything that had ever brought him gratification, from the fur of the puppy he'd owned as a child to the first whiff he'd had of the skin of a woman's breast. He reached up to cup one such protruding mammary only to find the figure shy away._

"_Help me…"_

"_I will."_

"_They have me, trapped. Only _you_ can free me."_

_His groin throbbed. "Just come back. Just for a moment."_

_The figure floated away and curled up. He become frightened for her. She moaned in pain, the sound cutting through his heart, his lust evaporating in lieu of his uncharacteristic concern._

"_Winter. Oh, Winter. It hurts, it hurts. You have to hurry. You linger but you need to hurry. I am waiting, and I am in agony. You will free me..."_

"_I will!" he declared, and meant it with all his heart._

"…_free me free me FREE ME FREE ME FREE ME FREEEEE MEEEEEEEEEEEE!"_

Her scream rang in Kaplain's ears as he bolted upright in his cot. Sweat had soaked through his pillow and his night-clothes. He settled back down, disgusted, certain that the stress of his arduous journey had finally gotten to him.

The dream revisited him several times again that night alone. And the next, and the next.

Three days later, the Galbadian army was making breakneck speed towards Balamb Garden.


	7. Changes

**12/22/2006 - please note: this chapter is still in progress. sorry! **

**seven **

Seifer didn't think boredom could be so… _boring_.

His "friends" had made an obligatory (at least he'd thought it was obligatory; why else bother?) attempt to cheer him up after Dr. Kadowaki had so thoughtfully informed them of his outburst with Squall. After snapping at her and making a weak attempt at killing Raijin for his unnerving happiness (IV's were really hindered one's ability to choke another to death) they'd left him be. That was hours ago. At least he'd thought it was hours ago. Since the nearest clock was on the wall behind his head there was no way of gauging real time. For all he knew it'd been minutes. With nighttime crawling its unknown way across the skies the only way he'd know if time had passed was if the sun finally came up.

Boredom was making him think too hard, and thinking too hard was making him sink lower and lower into depression. If it hadn't been for the fact that his physical condition was so debilitating he was certain he would be taking Hyperion and shoving its considerable length into the most accessible fatal organ.

After seeing Squall, there really was no other option. It was either that or go mad. If a good ol' stable Squall was succumbing to the madness of… whatever this was then Seifer realized his own prospects were looking dim.

Better to die then become that wretched, mad creature he'd seen down in the depths of Esthar.

Thus, when Rinoa approached his bed he felt it was his obligation as a Knight to let the Sorceress know _exactly_ how he felt about the whole thing.

* * *

As soon as she approached, Seifer rolled over. Good, better this way, better than have him scream. Just in case, though, Rinoa had arranged her hair over the sides of her face. The darkness would cover most of her, but…

"Seifer…?"

She could apologize. After Squall had left her she'd sobbed herself to sleep and into fitful dreams. When she awoke it'd fallen dark, Edea had fallen asleep in her chair, and her love hadn't returned. Seifer, however, wasn't going anywhere and at least someone should hear that she was sorry for the whole thing… even though it wasn't even her fault.

"Seifer? I – "

"Fuck you."

"What?"

"Do I need to repeat myself?"

Rinoa stifled a surge of temper. "No, but I didn't come here to argue. I came to apologize."

"For what? For making me a Hyne-forsaken cripple? Gee, apology accepted. Now get the hell out of here."

"Fine."

A sniffle broke through the silence as she rose from the chair. As if on cue, Seifer surged around and snatched her retreating arm. This time it was Rinoa who kept her face turned.

"Do you understand what I've been through, you selfish bitch?" he hissed. "All my life, all I ever wanted to be was _important_, was to be _someone_ and not just another fucking orphan. And when I saw the Sorceress films, when I saw the Knight in all his glory and I found out it was all _real_ there was nothing, _nothing _that was going to stop me! Except now I know it was all a curse. Look at me! I'm a fucking nobody, a criminal, a failure! Do you realize how it feels to go down in history as the great idiot? Do you know what it feels like to sit here and realize any first year kid in this facility can come and beat the shit out of me because I can't fend them off? And you have the gall to come here and CRY at me!"

Rinoa stiffened in his grip. She turned, her hair falling away from her face, the moonlight highlighting the new ridges and curls that signified her embrace of an ancient power. Seifer slowly released her, remembering the sweet seduction that had enveloped him when he'd first seen Edea's face without the traditional mask. Unwillingly his body responded, his breath quickening in anticipation of the fulfillment that came with obeying her every command.

The Sorceress, tears down her face, eyes glowing unnaturally in the dark, faced her Knight.

"I'll fix it then."

* * *

Edea snapped awake, feeling the surge of primal power echoing within her, like a shout heard across a canyon spread.

She watched the glow of magic brighten and dim, and Seifer's hoarse cry of dismay and ecstasy. When Rinoa slowly, elegantly made her way back to her enclave like a queen returning to her throne, Edea turned her head away.

Tomorrow would see her returning to the orphanage. There was nothing else she could do here.

Two weak hands like hers wouldn't be able to stop the new Sorceress' eminent downfall.


End file.
